Another Sector of Hell-The Fanfic from Heck part 2
by Lizyrd
Summary: Sequel to "The Fanfiction from Heck", this is... um, twisted? Weird? Strange? All of the above? A flat out good time? (I've had people tell me so, but personally...)
1. Peeves's Problem

A/N: (the world's LONGEST author's note) This particular writing focuses less on Nicole and more on Harry.... I can't help it!! There's only so much messing with a piece of writing that my muse will let me do! But I do think this is the better work-- my other one, "The Fanfiction from Heck" had nothing but what was nessecary but the plot; this one had a couple of asides. Rest assured, I like it and I think you will too. Get ready for a longie! This is over 100 pages-- but don't be discouraged-- it keeps the attention quite nicely. The print is also large. ;-) But it is somewhat confusing, as it's a bit of a massive crossover of various books-- and unless you've read as many books as I have (and that's on HELL of a lot), then just treat anyone from another book like I made them up. Also, the PG rating on this is NOT just for show.

The names "Nive" and "Eoren" really should have a little accent mark on the capital E and the i, but those are WAY too hard to do in HTML. (Which (just to show off my knowledge) means "Hyper Text Markup Language".) :::::sigh:::: I'm such a Hermione..... For all you peeps out there who liked "Maidenly Innocence. Sort of. Well, no." there's a bit of a mention of "Jimmy Sunshine" whiskey! (And yes, you have to be eighteen to buy it and twenty-one to actually drink it... although it is good as a cleaning substance, as you will find.)

Oh, and this is chaptered. I don't have it all up yet, but I will soon..... when I finish WRITING it, that is. (Please, if you spam/flame me, be gentle. I don't have a day in the schoolweek where I don't have something afterwards. My schedule is.... erm, busy.)

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Harry Potter. No, I don't own Nicole OR Sophie. They own me. Naevaerland and its, erm, rather-- excuse me, REALLY strange inhabitants belong to Spamwarrior, as does Stephanie Barry, and Tananda (a.k.a. "Tanda") belongs to Robert Asprin in his book "Another Fine Myth" and its counterparts, although I did make up her last name.

Another Sector of Hell-- Madness Returns  
-- The Fanfiction from Heck part 2   
(a.k.a. Harry Potter and the Return of the Dark or "Nicole 2")   
(sequel to "Harry Potter and the Cross-world Adventures"   
or "The Fanfiction from Heck" OR "Nicole 1") 

Chapter 1  
Peeves' Problem 

Peeves the Poltergeist skimmed the tops of some suits of armor before landing safely on the floor so he could maneuver his wheelchair through the threshold of the door that lead into Professor Dumbledore's office. 

Damn that Nearly Headless Nick! He'd done this to him- put him in a wheelchair of all things, for Goodness's sake. The least wanted thing of Peeves was several broken leg-bones. But a least a wheelchair was better than crutches, which he'd almost been forced to use, he reminded himself. For that, he could be grateful. 

"Good morning, Peeves," said Sophia Willow, brushing past him. Sophia Willow was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after their previous one, Harria Crystal, had turned out to be an evil Fleur Delacour. Fleur had sold her soul to Voldemort, becoming his mistress and his agent in the school until a dragon which a student by name of Nicole had attracted forced her to reveal herself. Fortunately, the dragon had carried her off; it was left to the depths of the imagination to say where Fleur was now. 

Probably a dragon belly, thought Peeves with grim humor. He had never liked Crystal/Fleur. But then, he didn't like Sophia Willow either.

Professor Willow was a nice person, although her name was certainly opposed to her build. Instead of being long, willowy and graceful, (like one would expect) she was broad shouldered and hipped, with blonde hair and greenish eyes. She was tall enough, and presented her own kind of grace and charm. She looked very European, with a slightly hooked nose and a pretty face. 

Peeves heard a mewl and, looking down, saw Filch's scrawny cat, Mrs. Norris, looking up at him disapprovingly, as if she knew his very thoughts. Peeves had always wondered why Mrs. Norris was called Mrs., but on the occasion of asking Filch, the caretaker, he had received an angry look and a "she is, and that's that! Don't ever dare to mention that around me again!" Peeves wondered why Filch was so touchy on the subject, but even he knew better than to ask. 

At that moment Professor Dumbledore's gargoyle jumped aside, and there was a grating noise as the door slid open. No one was on the stairs that led up to the Headmaster's Office. "Wha?" said Peeves blankly. "Why'd you open?"

"I figured that if you wanted to see Professor Dumbledore badly enough to stand there for five minutes a little piece of stone like me's not gonna stop you," said the gargoyle in a deep voice. "It hurts when people kick me, did you know that? Like that Harry Potter kicked me two years ago.... man, I'm tellin' ya, he might have saved the world, but he could have a little more respect for the working decents like me. Besides, I know you. You painted daisies all over me last year. " 

"Mmm," replied Peeves, not really interested. "Well, as long as I'm here, I might as well bug Professor Dumbledore about having a magical replacement for my wheelchair." 

"But Professor," whined Peeves fifteen minutes later. "You know it could be done--" 

Dumbledore peered, amused, at the simpering Peeves before him. "Peeves, my dear poltergeist," he said in a voice as deep and old as the gargoyle's, "I think we both know that this wheelchair will help keep you out of-- trouble. Remember the silly wedding portrait?" 

Peeves' mouth split into a wide grin. "OOOOH--" 

"Yes, well, I'm sure you see what I mean," interrupted Dumbledore. "There's no need to go reminiscing about it."

"Of course not, Professor," said Peeves, and flew out the door and down the stairs. Moments later, there was a loud crash followed by several thump!s and a loud "OW!!" 

"Oh dear," mumbled Professor Dumbledore, trying hard to suppress a smile-- 

Peeves had forgotten it was a spiral staircase _ again. _

. 

. 

. 

. 

. 

A/N #2: All right folks, I know that was pathetic, but it sets the stage for some pranks. Anyway, the next chapter is better. Go read it. 

Lizyrd 


	2. Still at Hogwarts

Chapter 2   
Still at Hogwarts 

. 

. 

At that moment, Harry Potter stumbled down into the Gryffindor common room. Having stayed at the castle over the summer he was quite frankly bored. It was, of course, better than the Dursley's, but nothing much was happening. Harry had stayed at Hogwarts over the summer because he had helped to repair the castle after he and a few other students had blown it up to get rid of an attacking dragon, and after all that excitement it seemed quite dull and uneventful in the castle, despite Fred and George Weasley's best attempts to liven it up. The only teachers present were Professors Dumbledore, the headmaster, Filch, the caretaker, and Sophia (or Sophie, as she insisted on being called) Willow. 

Harry had asked Fred and George repeatedly why they were staying at Hogwarts: it had been their seventh year last term. But George only said, "You'll find out on September 1," and Fred had said nothing at all. 

Ron Weasley, the twins' brother, climbed through the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor tower. He was exhausted-- a Dungbomb in the caretaker's office had rewarded him with three hours' labor in the gardens with the house elves. 

"Blah," said Ron, falling into an armchair, rubbing dirt off his sunburned neck; his ears too were very red. "Harry, what're you looking tired for? You weren't the one who had to work in the gardens with Dobby for two and a half hours." 

"Why only two and a half?" asked Hermione Granger, coming down the stairs from the girl's dormitory. "I thought you were scheduled for three." 

"Professor Sophie heard about it about then," said Ron, grinning. "Gave a telling off to Filch for giving me such a 'harsh punishment' and told him that I was 'only an adolescent' and that 'I should not be forced to undergo intense physical labor' for 'a silly stunt'." 

"Yeah, she's pretty cool." A new voice came drifting down from the sixth year girl's dorm. Seconds later, a girl-- a young woman, really --came clattering down the stairs in clunky high-heeled black sandals. 

That was not the only thing that told that this particular witch was American in origin; she had been transferred from Broadway School of Magic and it was obvious. Having forsaken their monotonous black Hogwarts robes for Muggle clothes over the summer, they had taken the chance to show off what flashy Muggle clothes they owned (Harry had been out of the competition, of course), but this girl had gone all out. 

Instead of stretch pants and a floppy T-shirt, like Hermione, this girl wore a black mini-skirt and a silvery spaghetti-strap tanktop, along with masses of jewelry. Her black hair was pinned haphazardly (evene more so than usual), and her violet eyes flashed with triumph at having beaten them all at the game. 

"God, Nicole," said George Weasley, who happened to come in, (and who also happened to be her boyfriend). "Isn't that uncomfortable?" 

"Yeah," said the girl, presumably Nicole. "Hang on.... I wasn't planning on wearing these for long; I only wanted to show off a little. " She disappeared. "That was weird," remarked Fred Weasley. Moments later, she came thudding back down the stairs in a loose and incredibly huge T-shirt and baggy cut-offs. She was barefoot. Fred laughed. "Now that's more like it. Especially for Hogwarts." 

"Right," said Nicole, smiling. "I'm gonna go work in the gardens." 

Ron rolled his eyes: Nicole was always spontaneously going to work in the gardens, which she had designed. But then, Nicole did have a special gift with plants; it often got her into trouble. For instance, while working in the garden one evening, an red-leafed ivy nearly uprooted itself to follow her in to dinner; maybe the plant was just hungry. But the gardens were magnificent this year; Nicole had gotten permission from Professor Dumbledore to grow tiny, twinkling vines all over Hogwarts. The minute leaves of this plant glowed in the dark and faeries often inhabited them. Ivy gardens surrounded beds of roses, tulips and irises. Japanese maples provided shade; locust trees and boxwood hedges made a pleasant little tree garden, where beds of amaryllis and coleuses and other shade plants made for a cool green resort. But best of all were the stoneworks. Brilliant diamond fountains and stone pathways and borders and water channels surrounded the castle, making it seem more magical than ever. Nicole was proud of these, and she loved to work in them, as long as she could use her wand to weed. 

****** 

A long week later, September 1 arrived. Harry came down to the feast early, where, curiously, Fred and George sat at the staff table along with Sophie Willow and the headmaster. As the school filed in through the massive double doors, the teachers entered from the side chamber that lead to the staff room. Nicole poked Harry in the ribs. "Look at Snape!" she hissed. 

Severus Snape had gone dead white, glaring hatred at the person in front of him, who was glaring back. Harry recognized the expression on Snape's sallow face with surprise: it was the kind of utter loathing that not even Harry could get from Snape. There was no contempt in Snape's eyes, only hatred, pure and simple. That, and a spark of jealousy. The figure he was glaring at was-- 

"Hello, Snape," said the woman coldly. Sophia Willow. "I see you still haven't gotten over your acne. Are you enjoying your job of torturing students?" 

"How dare you," snapped Snape softly. "You are an equal here, not an overlord. We are both teachers, but that means does not mean I have any reason to trust you." 

"Dumbledore trusts me," responded Willow, just as deadly. "For good reason. May I remind you that--" 

"The headmaster also happens to have faith in me." Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I don't care, Willow.... any funny business, and I'll seize the opportunity and accuse you. I want you out, and I don't care how I do it. I've given you fair warning." 

"The same goes for me," said Willow, unsmiling. She turned on her heel and swept off to her seat; Dumbledore had cleverly arranged things so that she would be next to Hagrid and McGonagall, with Snape three seats over. 

As the Sorting began, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Nicole conversed about what they'd seen in hushed voices. But very soon they were too eager to stuff their faces with the amazing feast to puzzle over strange little conversation they'd overheard from Snape and Willow. Harry was helping himself to a baked potato when Professor McGonagall leaned over Snape and whispered something to Dumbledore. The headmaster hurriedly rose. "Ahem," he said, clearing his throat. The noise in the hall died down. "Just to give you a few start of term notices before you sink your attention into this delicious feast. First of all, I would like to tell you all that the Forbidden Forest is just that-- forbidden. 

"Also, I am pleased to welcome three new staff members to our ranks this year. "Sophia Willow, who has been kind enough to take over the Defense Against the Dark Arts job--" Some unenthusiastic applause met her introduction; only Harry, Hermione, Ron and Nicole clapped hard, looking quite superiour. 

"Second and third, Misters Fred and George Weasley, who have graciously accepted the position of helping our caretaker, Filch, keep Hogwarts in better shape, as it has been brought to my attention the castle would not have blown up so easily if it had not been full of cracks already. Misters Fred and George will be staying in the Gryffindor tower in rooms set aside especially for them." 

Harry and Ron exchanged excited glances. So the gags would not stop-- they'd be even better than usual, what with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Harry had a sudden vision of Malfoy with a four-foot tongue. He almost cracked up right there and then. By the time he'd calmed down, the rest of the students were finally digging into the feast. 

Fred and George were sniggering uncontrollably up at the staff table. Harry eyed them suspiciously. "You didn't happen to have any extras of your explosives lying around in your coat pockets, did you?" he asked Nicole, as Fred and George did their best to disguise their mirth. "Well, no, but the little tiny flowers on the vines are slightly explosive," said Nicole, "if you put enough of them in one spot.... Why?" Harry nodded at the twins. "Oh no," said Nicole, laughing. "I have the feeling this is going to be a repeat of last year...." 

"What sets them off?" Harry gave up-- he was chuckling. 

"Um, it's when someone is-- not liking someone else...it usually takes a strong surge of hate to set them off. Which means that someone he or she has hated all their life. It usually means old school enemies or something. Quite effective at times." 

But everything seemed normal, except for that. Professor Willow was engaged in a conversation with Hagrid; Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore; Filch was telling off the Weasley twins for having accidentally knocked over a pot of soup; Snape was glaring poisonously at Willow. When Willow noticed Snape, she remarked gleefully, "Snape, don't make such faces. Your face might freeze that way-- oh, I'm sorry, it already has, hasn't it?" 

Snape's fists clenched, his right hand twitching as though longing to reach for his wand. 

"Oh here we go--" began Nicole teasingly. 

POW!! 

Fred and George had done their work well-- it was a flagon of wine that exploded, positioned nicely next to Snape. His face and robes were dripping with the sticky liquid for the second time in two years. He began to get up-- 

FLUMP!! 

Several large cakes blew up at once. Sugary icing flew everywhere, liberally plastering Hagrid with it. 

BLAM!! 

An entire tray of baked potatoes exploded. Bits of potato hit Filch and Willow. Willow grinned and scrubbed her face with a napkin-- 

PWOP!! Three turkeys went like small bombshells. Professors Vector, McGonagall, Trelawnrey and Sprout were covered with pieces of poultry smothered in gravy. One, in particular, looked pissed-- Minerva McGonagall stood up, her hair flecked with gravy, her robes dropping turkey bits on the floor. 

"Good gravy, who did this?" joked Willow at the end of the staff table quietly, causing the Weasley twins to collapse in uncontrolled fits of laughter again. 

"Who did this?" demanded McGonagall, staring around the Great Hall. "Who planted explosives at the staff table?"

"They aren't explosives, Minerva." Professor Willow stood up, swishing something around in her callused palm. She held up her hand to show them: tiny, blue-greenish white flowers. "They're all over Hogwarts, I believe..... any student could have gotten hold of them. They're timed to go off when someone has a-- a strong dislike that has been rooted in their very personality. Usually, it means that this person has known the-- the one they hate for a very long time." 

"Aaaargh!" said McGonagall frusteratedly. "Than that means there's no reason all our food can't be blown up at every dinner, if we can't catch the culprit." 

The Weasley twins stared at her. This had plainly not occurred to them, because immediately they both spewed food forcefully over the table. It hit McGonagall in the back of the head, unfortunately. McGonagall turned furiously; but someone at the Gryffindor table had a different idea. 

Hermione Granger took a handful of custard and threw it at Professor McGonagall. It hit, splat! on the back of her head as Hermione hastily sat down and hid her custardy hand behind her back, looking both horrified and pleased at what she had done. Fred and George were gaping at Hermione as if they couldn't believe that Hermione Granger had actually hit_ a teacher _ with _ custard _when _ they weren't even looking. _

Nicole looked proud and flung a goblet full of pumpkin juice at Professor Trelawnrey, whom she had met last year and did not particularly like. It hit with a satisfying splatter as the goblet rolled away from having smashed into one of the Divination teachers many golden bracelets. Trelawnrey groped madly for her hankerchief, trying to clear her glasses of the sticky drink. The biggest food fight in the entire past seven years then commenced, and even Willow joined in, "accidentally" pinning Professor Snape's arms under a large turkey that had escaped most of the explosions. Hagrid sent a large orange hurtling McGonagall's way, but then Filch stood up and received it full in the face. He retrieved it, glared at it, then threw it aimlessly towards the door. At that moment, a house elf trotted in to see what all the ruckus was about and got the orange in the chest. After picking herself up of the floor, the elf squeaked and ran back to the kitchens, her white tea-towel flapping. 

Dumbledore finally restored order by levitating all the food so no students could get at it-- several tried. He coughed. "Yes, yes, this all quite fun, especially from a by-stander's point of view," he said, his eyes twinkling. "But I'm afraid it will have to stop now, as it happens to be bed-time for all you custard-hurtling students." Harry could have sworn his amused eyes flashed briefly in the direction of Hermione. "Anyway, hurry off to bed now." 

The tired students headed out the double doors and to their various houses. As well as, Harry thought privately, the showers to wash all that food off. 

They got the password from a prefect (Waddlesnouts) and climbed the stairs into their dormitories. Within seconds, Harry was fast asleep. 

A/N: Well, that was better, don't ya think? I really appreciate reviews, so, if you'd care to join my crew and help me out and make me a better writer, and make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to the point of going hugging complete strangers and scaring people out of their wits.... and, well, you get the point. 

Lizyrd, a proud member of pyscotic reptiles anonymous. (PRA). 


	3. Sirius's Problem

Chapter 3  
Sirius's Problem 

About a week later, Harry got a tropical bird from Sirius Black, his godfather, where he was hiding at Nicole's mother's house in America. (Nicole's mum was Sirius's girlfriend in school-- she trusted him.) The letter read: 

_

> Dear Harry,   
I've got a huge problem. I'm sorry to bother you with it, but you're probably the only person who can help besides Nicole, Ron, and Hermione. Oh, how can I put this-- um, -- here Harry could hear the embarrassment in Sirius' deep voice even in the letter -- Nicole's mother, Trina Moren, and I want to get married..... and you know what that means. I've got to have my name cleared. I know this will be hard, Harry, but you're one of the only ones who trusts me. Trina is doing as much as she can, and Dumbledore is helping, but we must lure Pettigrew and capture him, and you're the only one he'd even consider going after. This will be dangerous, yes, but we can do it. Trina and I will come to Hogwarts in advance, and we'll figure out the plan-- Dumbledore will look after us and make sure I have a place to hide. Go to Professor Willow..... I've sent her an owl as well and asked Dumbledore to explain everything. She might help-- she seems like a sensible woman. More so than Minerva McGonagall, at any rate. I hope to see you soon. Until then, I remain, ever after, Your proud Godfather, Padfoot PS. I heard about last year: it gave me quite a laugh. Harry, you're one of the best Marauders ever, blowing up the castle! 

_

Harry blinked away sudden tears. He wanted to see Sirius again, badly. And he might be able to. Quickly, he read the letter in a whisper to Hermione, Ron and Nicole. "We've got to see Dumbledore," he finished desperately. 

"I know that," snapped Nicole, looking worried. "We'll catch him after breakfast. We must." 

"Aren't you surprised that Sirius and your mother are getting married?" asked Hermione. 

"They mentioned something about it last year..... come on, Professor Dumbledore's getting up!" 

They followed Dumbledore out of the Great Hall and into the entrance hall. He turned around. "Ah, Harry and the crew. Yes, I thought you'd be along..... anxious about Padfoot?" 

"Who wouldn't be?" said Nicole. "Professor, I've got a couple questions, such as when will they be here, when can we go to Professor Sophie, and what the hell are we gonna use for a plan?" 

"Sirius and Miss Trina Moren will be arriving in three days and they will have magically protected accommodations. You may go to Professor Willow at any time; I have explained to her and she may be able to help. I still do not know what we're going to use for a plan to lure Pettigrew, but we've got all year…. Although I'm sure Sirius would prefer that we do it sooner." 

"How am I supposed to wait three days?" asked Harry rhetorically. 

"Do your homework, for a change, and talk to Professor Sophie," said Hermione practically. 

"Ha ha," said Ron sarcastically. "Not funny." 

"We've got classes, you know," Nicole told them, "and we're going to be late to Transfiguration." 

That afternoon, Harry tried to fit a chat with Professor Sophie Willow in that day, but his afternoon and everywhere until dinner was completely booked. He finally decided to skip homework and go see her right after dinner. 

In Potions, Snape was being particularly nasty, Hermione was staring, dreamy-eyed at Malfoy, and Nicole was sniggering heartily at the antics of Crabbe, who was accidentally tipping things over because he was trying to read an issue of _ Muscle Man _ underneath his desk to impress Millicent Bulstrode. 

"What the heck has gotten into them?" asked Ron, looking up and sneaking a glance at Crabbe. 

"Head down, Mr. Weasley and work on your own potion," barked Snape. "Do that again and five points from Gryffindor." He strode over to Neville Longbottom's cauldron. "So close, Longbottom, so close," hissed Snape, taking out a ladle and scooping a large cupful out of the cauldron. Now everyone was looking up. "But not quite." He poured the purplish potion back slowly. "It's useless! Didn't you hear me say that four phoenix tail feathers would be enough? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?" 

Neville whimpered. His eyes filled; he had almost gotten a potion right, only to be shot down by Snape once again. His eyes spilled over when Snape said poisonously, "That will be twenty points from Gryffindor." 

Nicole reached over and gave Neville her hankerchief, glaring at Snape as though daring him to challenge this move. He did not. 

******* 

Far away in a dark mansion, two figures, one short, one tall, sat in front of a fire, the tall one in a chair, the short one on the floor. A large snake lay curled on the hearth rug. 

"Wormtail, you fool," hissed the tall figure in a voice colder than a winter storm. "I need those four more than you can imagine." 

"But Master, why?" whined the short figure. The voice was that of a man, but cowardly and beaten, as if he was immeasurably afraid. 

"I need Potter's power, White's will, control and persuasiveness, Weasley's strategies, and Granger's knowledge. Those children could win or lose me the war! If that fool Dumbledore has the brains to put those four in command of the army, they could raise a fighting force so determined that even I, Lord Voldemort, could not beat them."

"How can we trust them, even if they do work for us?" muttered Wormtail. "It's been tried before with that White." 

"But that was the Snape and the Malfoy families, and their lackeys, not the Dark Lord himself," said the cold voice. "In time, they will come to see the light, or, as the case may be, the Dark. The chip WILL work, whatever say many. And you, Wormtail, will have the chance to serve me once again. If you fail, I dare say that Nagini, at least, will appreciate you….. as her dinner." 

***** 

As hard as it was for Harry, three days actually passed, and before no time it was Saturday and they were hurried up to the Headmaster's office by Dumbledore. Harry had found no time to talk to Professor Sophie, and tried to tell the headmaster so, but Dumbledore kept saying, "Don't worry, Harry. It doesn't matter; you'll see." Dumbledore left Harry beside the door. He slowly pushed it open and went in. 

Sirius was waiting for them beside a dirty-blonde haired, short, cute little brow-eyed woman that looked nothing like Nicole. "Mom!" Nicole went to hug the blonde woman. "Sirius!" She hugged him too. "Mom, meet Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter. Harry, Hermione, Ron, my mother, Trina Moren." 

Hermione and Ron muttered "Hello"s. Harry grinned at Sirius. "Long time, no see," he said happily. 

"Indeed, Harry," replied Sirius, in an uncharateristic fit of dignity. "You have no idea how much I would have given to have been at the castle last year." 

"Or, last year, at the pile of rubble that was the castle," muttered Ron. 

"Living up to the Mauraders, are you?" asked Trina Moren. "Yes, I'd heard that the Weasleys, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger could give 'em a run for their money." 

"Yes, I guess, Ma'am," said Hermione clearly. She seemed perfectly comfortable around Nicole's mother. 

"Just Trina, please..... proper disrespect and all that--" 

At that moment, Sophia Willow breezed in. "Hello, Trina, Sirius," she said comfortably. "Been a while... still up to your old tricks?" 

"Sophie!" Sirius and Trina said simutaneously. They both embraced her briefly. 

"Sirius, this is a nice change. You're not looking like a convicted murderer who's been in Azkaban for twelve years anymore." 

"Boy did he ever when he came to our house," joked Nicole. 

"Effect and all that," retorted Sirius. 

"And you, Trina, whatcha doin', taking up with a guy like Sirius, huh?" teased Sophie. 

"Yeah, when's the wedding?" chimed in Harry, apparently encouraged by the informality of the proceedings. 

"Uh, erm-- there is no wedding." Sirius was plainly uncomfortable. 

"What?" Harry was confused. "But-- in your letter--" 

"Um, yeah, I can explain that-- Voldemort's forces have moved into America. "Can you imagine the price on my head? Knowing about Pettigrew and being a trained Hit Wizard-- as well as an Auror? Voldielocks wants me dead, Harry, and if that owl was interrcepted, then what? Dear old Voldy musn't know that I know about his invasion." Sirius spun and stabbed a finger in comic indignation at Trina. "Besides, it was her idea." 

"Was not!" cried Trina. "Well, actually-- but it was your idea to come here!" 

"Why aren't you getting married?" Nicole was grinning. 

"I just couldn't give up the girls," quipped Sirius, striking a Tim Curry pose. 

Trina snorted. "Yeah, there's a lot of market for ex-convicted wizarding murderers." 

"Oh, you'd be suprised--" Fred and George barged in. Sirius went stiff. "Ah, don't worry about that," said Fred, "Dumbledore explained. We've brought you a bit of a welcome home present, Sirius." 

"Thank you," said Sirius, taking the bag and opening it. Inside was a box, wrapped in gold paper and stamped "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Sampler Box". 

Dumbledore came in and sat down at his desk. "Are we all here? Excellent. Have a seat. Now, as we all know, this is a planning session and its goal is to devise a strategy for clearing Sirius's name. I suggest we use the name 'Project 104'--" 

Nicole shivered and bit back some sound. 

"Or perhaps 'Plan S', even if Project is used by Muggles and would make it seem more ordinary," said Dumbledore, with a worried glance at Nicole. "Now, as Sirius himself well knows, Voldemort's hunters are after him. If we make sure that the word gets out that we've got Sirius, then we should be able to snag a Dark Warrior, find out where Pettigrew is and lure him. It's really quite simple-- Mr. Black, would you kindly not plant Ton-Tounge Toffy in my candy dish? I find a long tounge rather distracting and hard to work around." 

Sirius jumped and looked up guiltily, hurriedly snatching at a few brightly wrapped candies that were in a small dish on the sideboard. "Uh, right, sorry," he offered. 

"Quite understandable. Now, as I was saying-- oh, I finished, didn't I?" 

Heads nodded. 

"Good. Does everyone understand?" 

"Yes," chorused the listeners. 

"We hope," muttered Nicole. 

"Fine then. That's it; you may go. Sirius, Trina, your rooms are down in the dungeons; I believe you know where they are," said Dumbledore. "This cat's eye agate will make you invisible. When you are done with it, simply place it in the dark and it will have no effect." 

"Thank you, sir," said Trina as Sirius took the stone. They vanished: the door swung shut and closed with a snap. 

"You two better go prepare for your class." Dumbledore motioned towards the twins. "Sirius and Trina will join you at eight." 

"Right," said Fred. "Harry, can we borrow your Maurader's Map?" 

"Sure," said Harry, bewildered. 

"Where is it?" asked George. 

"In my trunk, up in the sixth years dorm," Harry said, "but--" 

The door slammed: the twins were gone. 

"My door seems to be undergoing some serious abuse, eh?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Harry, Hermione, Ron, you may go. Nicole, I'd like to speak with you, if I may." 

Harry and Hermione left. Ron lingered on the bottom of the stairs for an instant. "I wonder what he wants to talk to Nicole for?" 

"I wonder what class Fred and George are teaching," said Harry. "They're supposed to be helping Filch. Got any ideas, Herm?" 

"Well..." Hermione led them out into the corridor and lowered her voice to a secretive whisper. "I overheard McGonagall, and they're not really helping Filch-- they're here for this class. Gryffindors only; no teachers but Fred, George, Sirius and Trina. As to the rest of it, you'll just have to wait an afternoon." 

"Aaaargh!" Ron was pretty clearly unhappy with having to wait. "You're teasing us!" 

"Harry asked," Hermione pointed out. "Let's go. I want to have lunch." 

Nicole came out of the staircase, seemingly half sad, half terrified. Her violet eyes were wide open; half-remembered, real-life nightmares lurked there. She looked-- haunted, somehow, as if the ghosts of memories snatched at her, and threatened to drag her down in a never-ending spiral of darkness. "Nicole, what's wrong?" asked Hermione with concern. "Wh--" 

Nicole stiffened, arching her back as if in pain. She raised her hand and made a half-choked noise. "Nicole!" Ron shook her. 

"Wha-- oh, I'm sorry," said Nicole. "I was just-- remembering. Day-dreaming, I guess." The haunted look was not gone-- indeed, it was more pronounced than ever, like a hunted beast that had no where to run. 

"Remembering what?" asked Harry. 

"I'd rather not--" began Nicole. 

"--tell and she doesn't have to," finished Hermione, glaring at Harry and Ron. She slipped an arm around Nicole's shoulders. "Come on. Put your past, or whatever it was, behind you for now." 

"You just want to get to the table because Draco will be there," said Nicole, slipping easily back behind her old mask of sarcasm. 

"Like, duh, totally," said Hermione, doing a rather excellent impression of a prissy highschool Muggle girl. 

"Like, he is so totally UN-hot." Nicole did an impression to rival Hermione's. 

Ron made a disgusted noise. "Grow UP, you two." 

A few hours before Fred and George's "class", Harry had Quidditch pratice. Gryffindor's new team captain was Katie Bell, and she had appointed new players to take over for the old ones who graduated. Ron was now Keeper; Nicole played the part of an excellent Chaser; Hermione was a Beater, (and, amazingly, seemed to like bashing Bludgers at people on broomsticks), and, incredibly, Neville was playing as the second Beater. He had grown in confidance considerably since last year, and was happy to be accepted. His flying had improved as well: he was a valuable member of the team-- Harry knew it, too. Katie wouldn't accept anyone who wasn't up to strut. 

"I swear," he said to Nicole, Ron and Hermione as they walked down to the Quidditch field, "Katie's becoming just as fanatic as Wood was." 

"And probably still is," muttered Ron. "He's definetly moved up from 'Reserve Keeper' to 'Team Captain' by now." They walked out onto lawns. Katie was impatient to get started; they had their next big match (Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw) in three days. "Harry," she told them in the locker rooms, "is the key, of course. That extra 150 points is always welcome." 

"Just like always," whispered Harry to Nicole. 

"But not as much as usual," Katie said, glaring at Harry. "We have three wonderful Chasers--" she pointed at Nicole, Alicia Spinnet, and herself "--and two suberb Beaters, and a Keeper who can pull off amazing stunts, and, of course, Harry. So let's get out there!" 

The team, grumbling a little, trudged out onto the field. A brisk, cool wind was blowing the fluffy clouds across the sky, and the sun beat down warmly. It was the perfect weather, but Harry still didn't feel like Quidditch. Reluctantly, he climbed onto his broomstick and took off after the Snitch, which Katie had released earlier. He spotted it lurking near the bottom of the stadium, dove after it and caught it easily in his hand. 

"Harry!" barked Katie. "You're getting complacent!" 

"Com-- what?" asked Harry, bewildered. He seemed to be doing rather a lot of being bewildered lately. 

"Complacent: over-confident, arrogent; relying on high quality instead of brains and reflexes," Katie explained. "You couldn't catch the Snitch at all without your Firebolt. When someone hits a Bludger at you now, you rely on your broomstick to swerve and dive fast enough to avoid it, instead of you ducking or twisting. You're depending on your broomstick, not your body and your brains." 

"Am not!" cried Harry indignantly. 

"Go ahead; try. You can still have a fast broom. Try the spare Nimbus 2000 that Ron's using. Harry, you can give Ron your Firebolt." 

Harry took the Nimbus as Katie told Neville, "Bash the Bludgers at him as if he's on the opposing team; see how well he does. Harry," she called. "The Snitch is still loose. Go on after it!" 

Harry circled the stadium. He spotted it, this time hovering near the opposite goal posts, and urged his broom toward it. The broom was much slower than he was accustomed to, and the Snitch flew downward. He followed it-- 

Whoosh! 

A Bludger came hurtling toward him, aimed for his chest. Harry tried desperately to swerve, but the Bludger grazed his elbow anyway, nearly pushing him off the narrow broomstick. 

Whoosh! 

The other Bludger came in sideways. Harry dived, but the Bludger was faster. It was only a two yards away, only a yard-- 

Harry hunched just in time. It brushed past his head as Harry fought to stay on his broomstick: the last duck had nearly thrown him. A little maneuver like that would never have gotten you in the old days, he silently raged, carefully swinging his left leg more securely up and over the broom. Katie is right. I'll try not to rely on my broomstick so much, he vowed. Any pretty good Seeker could have gotten the Snitch three times over by now. 

From the other end of the field, Nicole dodged Alicia Spinnet, zoomed past Ron and put one through the Gryffindor goal posts. She was quite a good Chaser; that was the sixth time she had scored with one Beater, two Chasers and a Keeper intent on stopping her. 

Proudly, she glanced down at the silver lettering on her broom: Nimbus 2001. It had been a birthday present from Trina and Sirius, as well as a congratulations token for being accepted into the Gryffindor team. Sirius had been very happy; he had played as a Chaser on the Gryffindor team during his entire school career. 

Ron wiped sweat from his face. It's hot out here, he thought. Especially when you're trying to stop the best Chaser at Hogwarts. 

Face tight, Katie shot up to hover next to him. "Stay alert," she warned. "I'll try to chase Nicole down field where Hermione can get to her. Alicia Spinnet will stay here to help you if things get rough. Try to keep her from scoring again, but don't nearly kill yourself, like you did last try." 

Ron had nearly slid from his broom to stop the Quaffle last time, but luckily he had managed to stay on. However, this time, he caught the Quaffle as Alicia Spinnet distracted Nicole. Tossing it back to Alicia, he watched carefully as Nicole "attacked", blocking the way of the two Chasers, Katie and Alicia. Intercepting a pass to Katie, she streaked back up towards the Gryffindor goal posts, the two other Chasers right behind her. 

**** 

At eight o'clock that night, Professor McGonagall herded all the Gryffindors into the common room. "Stay there," she commanded, and left. 

Seconds later, Fred and George emerged from their rooms. 

"Sit," Fred commanded. The Gryffindors collapsed into chairs and sofas. "Now," continued Fred, "as I'm sure none of you know, we are not actually here to help Filch." 

"That's just a cover-up," added George. 

"We're actually here," said Fred, ignoring his twin, "to teach a class on the secret passages, tunnels, and rooms of Hogwarts." 

"This class is only for the Gryffindors," George informed them, "as Dumbledore feels that you are the only ones who may be trusted with this information." 

"Helping us"-Fred and George were speaking like two puppets-one right after the other-"will be three very nice people. But I warn you, do not scream…. No matter who they are. They are all perfectly innocent." 

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown exchanged nervous glances. Seamus Finnigan looked anxious. Harry and Ron bit their lips to keep from laughing; when George had said that last bit, they knew immediately who it was. 

"Presenting….. Trina Moren, Sophia Willow, and Sirius Black!" 

There were several hastily stifled screams and all the people in the front row nearest to the door dived hurriedly behind their couch as if expecting Sirius to leap out and curse them at once. Trina emerged from a doorway, nearly dragging Sirius behind her. He had apparently peeked around the frame to see the reaction of the crowd and was now doubled up, laughing. Behind him stalked Sophia Willow, admonishing Sirius and trying hard not to loose her dignity by laughing herself. Sirius finally got himself under control, shook off Trina, and sat down in a chair near the fire. Trina joined him, flopping on top of his lanky form. Sophia Willow sat down on the carpet, sprawling. "Park it somewhere else, Trina," Sirius grunted. "You're a lot heavier than you look." 

"Thanks a bundle," said Trina dryly. 

Through out this entire display, the Gryffindors had said nothing. At last, Fred noticed them. "Ah, I suppose you'll all be wanting an explanation, then," he said in what he clearly thought was a charming manner. A few people nodded mutely. 

George launched into an explanation of Sirius's innocence, with Fred adding the occasional comment, but many students seemed loth to believe him, but George went on anyway. 

"Dumbledore trusts this fellow," he barked. "And if any of you even breathe a word, I'm sure you'll enjoy a nice long detention. Now, normally I'm against punishments, so if I'm in favor of it, then it must be pretty-- well, serious." 

The rest of the time was spent discussing the Marauder's map --and the various features-- as well as its creation. 

A/N: Sorry peeps.. I know that was a LAME-O place to leave you, but I don't have time to format any more..... 


	4. The Secret History of One Nicole White

A/N: Fixed font.... I hope. 

Chapter Four   
The Secret History of One Nicole White 

But it seemed the day's surprises were not over. After dinner that night-- just as some were getting up to leave-- Dumbledore held up his hand. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I must detain you from your long-anticipated homework just a moment longer," he said, his spectacles glinting. "I'm afraid to say that Professor Sprout has recieved a rather unfortunate injury from her Venomous Tentacula. Madam Pomfrey, could, of course, heal her, but I'm afraid that Professor Neyra Sprout would like to resign and enjoy more of life outside of Hogwarts." 

"I can't imagine why," Willow muttered sarcastically. 

"Anyway," Professor Dumbledore continued, "her post will be taken by Sophia Willow, as she has some skill with plants. Professor Minerva McGonagall will be taking over Neyra's post as Head of Hufflepuff--" the Hufflepuffs looked both shocked and worried "--and Sophia Willow will be Head of Gryffindor." 

Harry grinned. With Fred, George, Sophie, Trina, Nicole and Sirius, Gryffindor was guaranteed to be a madhouse within a few days. 

"As I'm sure all of you have deduced, this leaves the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts open. Our previous professor, Remus Lupin has been sent for. The wolfsbane potion has been modified; Professor Lupin is now able to stay entirely human, if a bit snappish at the full moon." Dumbledore smiled kindly. "And now, I am sure you all really wish to do your homework now, so-- actually, if you could possibly wait a moment, I believe I hear our new Professor arriving." 

There was a slam of doors and Harry caught sight of Remus Lupin, arrowing through the entrance hall on an old broomstick. "Commendably swift of him," said Dumbledore. 

Lupin waved. "Hello every--" 

WHAM!! 

Remus had just crashed forcefully into the top of the high doorway and gone flying backwards. He sat up amid the loose twigs and felt his forehead tenderly. 

"And to think he was once a Keeper," Harry heard Sophie Willow mumble as passed by. "I just don't know how he ever managed to get on the team." 

"Sophia, darling!" cried Remus in a very bad fake high-class brittish accent, leaping up and giving her a hug. "I didn't know you, of all people, were going to be here." 

"It's not just me either," confirmed Sophie. She leaned over to whisper in Remus's ear for a moment. A wide grin spread over his face. "Just like old times, eh?" he asked, grinning. "I never would have thought-- is the Mirror still here?" 

"Probably.. but Remus, you're forgetting your manners! There's no call to take off on the old artifacts hunt yet, you rude little imp," said Sophia, giving him a playful elbow in the ribs. "You haven't even said hello to Harry yet." 

"Good lord!" said Remus. "I apoligize profusely. How are you, Harry?" He crossed to the Gryffindor table and gripped Harry's shoulder in warm greeting. 

For his part, Harry gaped. Remus's robes were newer, cleaner, and un-patched. His light brown hair was in nice disarray, his sharp green eyes were clear, and a slight smile played about his face and eyes. There were still streaks of gray among the strands of brown, but he did not look tired at all. 

"You look-- in good health." Harry vainly tried to say say something to cover his surprise. 

"With a little help from Dumbledore," Remus murmured. "You mean I don't look like a grave-digger anymore...." Hermione laughed. "Neither does Padfoot," she whispered confidentally. 

"Knowing him, I'm not surprised," said Remus dryly. He walked swiftly toward the staff table. 

"I'm assuming that's Remus Lupin, the werewolf," said Nicole. 

"Uh huh," Harry confirmed. 

Hermione laughed. "Look at Snape," she snorted. "He must know Sirius is here...." Snape looked pale and totally horrified. "His worst enemies," breathed Nicole. "His old school ones...." She sniggered uncontrolably. "Boy, can I not wait until Sirius gets his name cleared..." she went into a fit of giggles. "We can have some real fun." 

******** 

The next few days were bliss for Harry. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes were becoming quite a favorite, and the much-previously-loved Canary Creams had become popular again. There was also another type of 'treat'-- Jaguar Jams, which turned Neville (once again, the scapegoat), into a rather large feline. For days afterward, many people began sprouting fur and sporting spots for several minutes, culimating an event in which Natalie McDonald attacked George in her unexpected cat form, and nearly gouged his eyes out, she was so mad. (Natalie had a bit of a temper and was under stress from a pop quiz that her Arithmancy teacher had given as homework.) 

But the last straw was when Fred accidentally set the Gryffindor common room on fire. After that, most Gryffindors agreed that Fred and George had gone a wee bit too far. 

It had all started innocently enough-- that is, Fred had been trying to invent a new kind of gag: Salamander Lolli-pops. They were bright orange, and contained living salamanders that burned your tounge nastily when licked. George had been handling an annoyed salamander with a spraybottle, goggles, and rubber gloves; this picture, combined with his messy hair and long white labratory robes, had drawn a crowd, and Harry, Hermione, Nicole and Ron were in the front row seats. There was a strong smell of Clorox from where Fred had been trying to bleach a red amphibian orange, and, in a desperate attempt to wash the posionous stuff of his salamander, Fred cracked a bottle of the strongest cleasing liquid he could find-- Jimmy Sunshine whiskey that he had gotten from God knows where -- and dumped it on him. 

This highly flammable substance, when in contact with a fire-lizard's skin, would be known as the great culinary delight, "Salamander ala Flambe", as Fred found out. He dropped the creature like a hot poker (which it might as well have been), and onto a tray of recipes and papers. The entire pile went up in flames, set the draperies on fire, and soon half the tower was scrambling for windows, dormitories, and exits as small piles of things flared up and then died to a pile of ashes. The other fraction of the tower was randomly squirting jets of water at nothing at all, and, by the time someone (probably Hermione) had the sense to preform an Anti-Burning charm, the Gryffindor common room was reduced to a soggy, sligtly charred barbeque. 

The carpets were fine, luckily, or McGonagall would have had their heads on silver platters-- the great culinary delight "Students ala Flambe". 

But as a few days passed, the damage was repaired,and the smell of burnt salamander subsided, something became clear to Harry. There was a strange kind of similarity about Sophia Willow and Sirius Black. Harry couldn't quite figure out what. 

"Do Sirius and Sophie seem kinda.... uh, close to you?" he asked Ron, Hermione and Nicole in the common room that evening. "I mean, they talk the same, both take charge, both don't mind saying Voldemort, and they like the same kind of humor." 

"You're right." Hermione pondered it. "I'll ask Sirius, next time I see him." 

********* 

Dumbledore called them all to his office one afternoon. "I have flounted the fact that we have Sirius," said Dumbledore, his eyes serious. "We have captured a Death Eater. Indeed, we were extemely lucky." 

A struggling man was hauled into the room, closely guarded by Sophie and Remus. Remus's robes were ripped; Sophie had a long nasty scratch up her arm. Remus was carrying two wands: one was presumably Death Eater's. 

"Good work, Remus," said Dumbledore, looking pleased. 

"It wasn't me, sir," said Remus politely. "We would have never caught this-- knave without Sophie." Sirius smiled proudly. 

"Where is Pettigrew?" Dumbledore did not beat around the bush. He leaned forward over his desk, his light blue eyes penatrating. 

"None of your business," snarled the Death Eater. 

Sophie cuffed him lightly around the head with her uninjured arm. "I would hit you harder, but you're not worth the energy," she scoffed. "Tell me. Now." 

The Death Eater remained silent. 

"Trust me. You do not want her for an enemy." Sirius leaned forward too, almost nose-to-nose with the Death Eater. "You're one of the freaks who put me in Azkaban for twelve years, for a crime I didn't do. Now talk, buster." 

The Death Eater clamped his jaw down tightly and didn't utter a squeak. 

"Look at his hands," hissed Nicole. Sure enough, the Death Eater's hands were trembling. "Just a moment," said Nicole. "Excuse me, Professor, could I have a go at this?" 

Dumbledore looked briefly confused, but after a moment his expression cleared. "Do you recognize him?" 

"Oh yes," Nicole nodded. "Remember me?" She let the Death Eater study her features for a moment. "Sahora Dormenz, four years ago. I was known as Project 104-- heir to Voldemort." Hermione started violently. Harry's head snapped up at the mention of "Voldemort's heir". "But this time, Visra, I've got the upper hand." 

The Death Eater, presumably Visra, was now shaking visibly. "Remember all the times you beat me? All the times you told me I would follow in Voldemort's footsteps, after time? The times you told me I would come to see the Dark?" Visra whimpered. "I never did, did I? I never lost those skills you taught me, those secrets you whispered to me. They're still here, inside my head--" Nicole tapped her temple "--and they've never left me alone! I know how to transfer those to you. Those nights studying payed off, finally. How would you like to be haunted by a hate to deep to comprehend?" Visra looked fearfully up at Nicole and pleaded, "No! No, please, I'll tell you anything!" 

"A little information is all we'll be needing," whispered Nicole, sounding remarkably like a herione on a popular Muggle TV show, "Xena, Warrior Princess". "In exchange, you'll have a chance. More of a one than I got. Now, where is Pettigrew?" 

"In the Forbidden Forest," mumbled Visra, looking down submissively, "he came because Master didn't think I was to be trusted." 

"And you're not, are you?" 

"I suppose not," admitted Visra reluctantly, still gazing downward. "But--" his left hand passed over his robes as Nicole threw herself into a flying tackle, knocking Sirius over backwards. Remus went stumbling back to crash into a wall, and Sophie pinned both Visra's arms as Nicole sat on his shins. 

"You didn't think I'd fall for that, did you?" asked Nicole, breathing heavily. "Another trick they taught you at Sahora Dormenz, wasn't it? You forget, I've come to recognize signs. Like I'm going to let you press the Dark Mark and summon Voldemort himself!" 

Remus hauled himself up the wall and took Nicole's position as Nicole herself eased off the Death Eater's shins. "Well, you've got your information," said Nicole disgustedly. "I'll be going." 

"What do we do with him?" Sirius gestured helplessly at the prone figure on the floor from his position draped over the back of a chair. 

"Dispose of him in a seemly manner, I suppose," answered Nicole thickly, turning. As the door slammed after her, Harry was surprised to see her face was wet with tears. 

********** 

Hermione dragged them up to the Gryffindor tower after a brief dinner. "Where are you in such a hurry to go?" asked Harry, fighting to get free of Hermione's iron grip. 

"I want to talk to Nicole when no one else is around," Hermione told them firmly, "and now she's had a chance to calm--and cool--down." 

"Why?" asked Ron, muffled (he had stuffed his pockets with pastries and was now gobbling them down at an alarming rate.) 

"Stupid," Hermione said, exasperated. "Did you hear all that stuff Nicole said to the Death Eater?" 

"Do we really have a right to know?" countered Ron. 

"Fine," Hermione barked, turning away. "You go ahead. Just go back to dinner and leave Harry and I to find out what's troubling our friend." Ron followed Hermione without further argument. As they climbed into the portrait hole, they caught a glimpse of a small huddled figure in an armchair next to the fire. Hermione went over immediately. 

"Nicole, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing's wrong," snapped Nicole tightly 

. "It's your past, isn't it?" Hermione asked gently. 

"How did you guess?" Nicole laughed bitterly. "You have no idea." 

"But I'd like to," pointed out Hermione. "Tell me about it." 

"No." 

"Someday, Nicole, you will have to; just to bleed off the posion." 

"But it doesn't have to be today." 

"Can it really be any worse than any other day?" Nicole blew her nose. In truth, Hermione's common sense spoke to her own, just as it always had. "Very well." Everyone drew closer. "When I was four years old, my mother was mugged by a bunch of masked wizards. They knocked her out, but she managed to stun two of them before they did so. They took me and used an Obliteration Memory Charm on my mother, Trina. The wizards didn't know that Dumbledore had placed an Anti-Obliteration spell on Mom, and so it just bounced off. I was taken, a screaming, crying child wrapped in a blanket, to a place-- a.. a castle. It was a school for the Dark Arts-- young girls, mostly, but a few boys, were taken away from their parents and put in this school, where they were taught the Dark Arts and to serve Voldemort. The castle's name was Sahora Dormenz, or the Sleeping Serpent in the language of Old. Voldemort did not build it: for as long as their has been Hogwarts, there has been Sahora Dormenz. The Ancient Evils built it in mockery of Hogwarts, which they feared. The layout is exactly the same. There are even houses, but they are all worse than Slytherin. Sahora Dormenz even operated on the same schedule, with classes at the same time. Only the classes are different, all about the Dark Arts, how to use them, and what we were to do when we graduated. I saw three people graduate. Voldemort himself came and burned the Dark Mark onto their arm. Then he gave them test assignments, to see if they were clever enough to serve him and survive. Only one made it. I was at the top of my classes for six years. All the teachers considered me to be the heir apparent to Voldemort, and they told me things that you couldn't imagine, to harden my heart and make me hate the muggles and Good wizards, like Dumbledore. It worked the other way. I grew to hate my teachers so fiercely I could hardly look at them without shaking with rage. But I stayed at the top of the class. Soon my time had come. I had only three years left there and I knew I must escape soon. I couldn't stand it anymore. I tried every trick in the book. Every time, I was almost caught. Finally, I tried I an old Muggle feat. A drugged bottle of wine took the guards out cold and I sneaked past them. I found myself in the village of Rya, the only Dark town in the world. Hags leered at me with mossy teeth as I crept past. Trolls watched from the shadows. Finally, one of Dumbledore's agents found me, a sobbing ten-year old, curled in a patch of darkness, hiding from the nightmare-ish creatures. I was brought home to my mother. For the next year, I finally got to know her better, and discover my history before I was taken. I didn't even know my own name anymore. No one did; at Sahora Dormenz, we were all simply called by our number and path. Girls were 'Project's, boys were 'Plan's. I finally got to pick a name, besides "Project 104". But it wasn't all happy and fluffy. Dark Hunters were still looking for me. I had to change my last name to "White". For all I know, they're still searching for me. The Heir to Voldemort. They still think they can turn me. And worse, the hate is still here, inside my head. It never leaves me alone. Creeping through my mind, bringing to surface the memories, the ones I've tried so desperately to bury. I've learned to ignore them. Mostly. I escaped with my life, which is more than I can say for many. Sometimes, I wonder if they didn't just let me escape. But I do have physical souveniers." She lifted the back of her shirt slightly. Hermione gasped. Crisscrossed in a bizzare weaving across her back, old, silver whip-lash marks marred the skin. "That's just some of my charming scars," said Nicole bitterly. "Look." 

She let her shirt drop and pulled her hair to one side. This time, it was Harry who gasped. Ron and Hermione both choked. Half-hidden by the curve of her left ear, and right against her hair-line, gleamed a silvery scar. Not a whiplash, either. A tiny, minute Dark Mark-- a skull with a snake for a tounge-- slashed diagonally through with a lightning bolt looked as if it had been burned into the skin. "We all had that," said Nicole, letting her hair swing down again to cover the horrible symbol. "It was the mark of a Death Eater in training. When you graduated, you had the Dark Mark burned into your arm and the lightning was removed from the other symbol. It was a proud mark, according to Voldemort, because it meant you had gone to Sahora Dormenz." 

They sat in silence for a while. Nicole stared, blank-eyed, at the fire. Finally, Ron broke the silence. "Do Fred and George know?" Nicole gave a sad little laugh. "Yes. They found me by the fire one night after dinner. Everyone else had gone to bed. I was still up. They demanded that I explain, and did I really have any choice? George, as my-- friend, has a right to know." Speaking of which, when she ended, Sirius, Trina, Fred and George climbed through the portrait hole. "Pity you left early," said George with a glance at Nicole. "We sent a couple of owls with packages of Ton-Tounge Toffee to Crabbe and Goyle. They--" he broke off, chuckling. Sirius leaned against the wall, laughing. "I borrowed Dumbledore's Invisibility Cloak and got to see it all...." he snorted. "And that's not all," chortled Trina. "Sirius here got bored and enchanted Goyle's sock! It pulled off his foot and jumped into a pudding!" 

"How the hell did you enchant Goyle's sock?" asked Hermione with great interest. 

"Oh, I hid behind a doorframe where no one would brush past me in the Invisiblity Cloak. I aimed for his foot, but it hit the sock." 

"And got dragged-- heehehe-- ahem, before-- oh, hahaha-- Dumbledore, I-- ptttphht!-- suppose," said Hermione, and gave up completely. Soon she, Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Sirius were rolling on the floor in mirth. Trina made a dignified attempt to conceal her giggles, but soon she too surrendered to rib-breaking laughter. Even Nicole chuckled weakly. 

Sophie Willow fell through the portrait hole and into a armchair. "Sirius," she gasped, "how did you manage to do that? I have got to learn that charm." 

"Just a little levitation," chuckled Sirius. "I'll teach you all." 

********* 

That Saturday was the first Quidditch match of the season. Scheduled the day after Halloween, Harry was nervous and didn't enjoy the Halloween feast as much as usual. There were several things to be worried about. The major factor was that they were playing Slytherin, and Samantha Killos, the new Slytherin captain, had really put together a good team. Harry dragged his broomstick out of his trunk and headed for the Quidditch field with Ron. The Slytherin team was already there; Harry and Ron took their broomsticks outside on the sunny field to defrost them. Hermione, Neville and Nicole joined them momentarily, working in silence. 

Suddenly Samantha Killos, the Slytherin captain, came around the corner. "Go away Killos," ordered Katie, who had just come around the bend. "We don't want you spying." 

"Would I do such a thing?" asked Samantha calmly. "You underestimate me." 

"By all means, I beg to protest and differ," said Ron, in a suprising burst of vocabulary, "I think we overestimate you." 

"Ron!" exclaimed Samantha, making a desperate attempt at smoothing down her hair. "I--I didn't see you there!" 

"No kidding," mumbled Hermione, kicking Harry lightly and grinning. 

"I-- I was just going," said Samantha, beginning to beat a hasty retreat to the locker rooms. A second later, she had vanished. 

"What was that all about?" asked Ron, puzzled. "You couldn't have gotten her outta here faster with a Banishing Spell." 

"Which is about what you need with these Slytherins," muttered Neville. 

The Gryffindor team took up their positions as the Slytherins walked onto the field. People poured into the stands. When they were all seated, Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Fifteen brooms rose high into the air as Natilie McDonald, a Gryffindor who had taken over Lee Jordan's job of commentator, began. 

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Nicole White of Gryffindor, a nice pass to Katie Bell, back to White, now to Alicia Spinnet, back to White-- she's really hurtling along up there, dodges a Bludger and two Slytherin Beaters-- Keeper Bletchly dives-- misses by a foot-- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!! Only two minutes into the game!" 

Nicole zoomed back up to the Gryffindor side of the field as Adrianne Martinia took the Quaffle. Blocking her neatly, Nicole signaled to Hermione, who sent a Bludger pelting Martinia's way, who dropped the Quaffle. Alicia Spinnet took it again and scored. 

The Slytherins had the Quaffle-- dodging around Katie, Martinia sent the red ball belting Ron's way. He just barely managed to catch it and prevent a score. 

The crowd gasped: Harry had just gone into a spectacular tilt, shooting upward after Malfoy who was headed up past the Gryffindor goal posts. Nicole streaked up to block Malfoy, making him swerve sharply. Harry gained a small amount. Malfoy cursed and tried desperately to dodge and duck, but where ever he turned Nicole kept him from advancing. Neville sent a Bludger flying in the general direction of the Slytherin Seeker just as Harry caught the Snitch-- 

It was over suddenly and ignominiously for Malfoy. The Bludger hit him hard in the shoulder, knocking him off his broomstick. 

A few people in the crowd screamed and Harry pulled out his wand, but it wasn't nessecary. Hermione grabbed Draco's arm when he dropped past and managed to slow his fall enough with broom to avoid serious injury. They both hit the ground with a small thunk, but neither were hurt beyond a few bruises. 

Draco got up, humiliated and blushing to beat a rose, and limped over to the sidelines, where his team gathered to see if he was hurt. The Gryffindors helped Hermione to her feet and carried her, cheering, to the sidelines. The Slytherins glared posionously after them. Harry and the team were on their way to the outside victory celebrations when a large group of Slytherins stepped out infront of them from behind some bleachers. 

"What do you lot want?" hailed Hermione. 

"We don't appriciate being cheated," said Adrianne Martinia. "Everyone knows that it was only a bit of foul play that won that match. We all know that the fair side should have won. You were using signals!" 

Hermione snorted. "Fair side? About as fair as a rainy morning! Your cheating record's about as clear as mud. Not to mention all the individual tricks.... the only class you're good at is Divination!" 

"Trust Hermione to come up with something like that," muttered Ron, chuckling. 

"I only suppose you consider yourself superior because of the famed Harry Potter and all that," said another Slytherin. "Wake up! Everyone knows Potter only survived out of sheer luck!" 

"Some day I must read this scholar everyone," Nicole remarked. "He seems to have written so much-- all of it wrong." 

"He was a Slytherin, no doubt," snickered Ron. "One of those camel-drooling--" 

The Slytherins all leapt at him with the clear intent of beating the snot out of Ron. The other Gryffindors waded in-- and a mighty brawl ensued. 

Apparently, the sporadic thuds, screams of pain and of "Ow! No biting!" alerted the teachers, for they came on the run, McGonagall in the lead. Furious, McGonagall waved her wand and froze all in their tracks as the other teachers pulled them apart. 

McGonagall glared at them all with her iron stare; Malfoy had a black eye; Nicole had a split lip that was bleeding slightly; Hermione had hit Adrianne Martinia over the head with a book; a Slytherin Harry didn't kow sported a bloody nose. All of them got ready for one hell of a lecture. 

McGonagall dragged them all up to her office and shut the door firmly. "Detention," she said harshly. "I am so angry I can barely speak! Two hours' detention.... brawling... I don't know what this school is coming to... I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore-- of that, you may be sure. You may go. Potter, if you would stay behind for a moment." 

Wondering what on Earth he could have done that deserved punishment besides brawling, Harry took a seat in a chair in front of McGonagall's desk. "Here," McGonagall said with much more gentleness than when she had spoken to the others, and handed him a damp cloth. "You'd better go see Madam Pomfrey-- that cut doesn't look serious, but all the same...." 

As if on cue, Harry noticed a sharp pain in his temple and realized there was a open, bleeding gash there that was dripping slowly into his ear. Gently, he swabbed off the ear and held the cloth to the cut. "Ask her to make sure it's not infected," the deputy headmistress called after him as Harry left. 

********** 

Dumbledore ushered Harry into his office for yet a third time that Tuesday. The others were all ready waiting. "We deem the time ripe," said Dumbledore. "Pettigrew is worried: the spy, Visra, has not returned. He will do anything to capture, uh-- Harry, actually." 

"This is considered an honor?" asked Harry sarcastically. Dumbledore ignored him. "Harry, you will have a major role to play in this." 

"Whoop de do," muttered Harry-- he was having a bad day. 

"If you go out into the Forest for detention with Hagrid, and pretend to get lost, it should draw Pettigrew. We have pinpointed Peter's exact location-- you will be within hearing range of it, calling out for help. Sophia Willow, Remus Lupin and Hermione Granger will be with you under Invisibility Cloaks. They will disarm Pettigrew and bring him back up to the castle. It should be easy to get the Ministry up here and clear Sirius's name." 

"Good," said Sirius. "I want to see Peter in Azkaban for killi-- what he did." Sirius hastily changed what he'd been about to say with a glance at Harry. 

"For killing my parents," said Harry dully. 

There was silence for a moment, then Hermione asked with false brightness, "When are we going to put this plan in action?" 

Dumbledore coughed slightly. "Ah, yes, that was another thing I wanted to tell you.... we're planning on doing it at eleven o'clock tonight. You may as well go and get ready." 

"Great," mumbled Harry. "Six hours to get our collective excrement together. Just who in flaming hell got me into this mess?" 

********* 

Harry stared. Pettigrew was obviously howling mad: what little was left of his hair was in wild disarray; he was wearing ripped and torn wizard robes; great gobs of spittle oozed down his chin; his left hand was twitching convulsively; the Dark Mark was glowing on his bare arm. "P--Peter," stuttered Harry, backing up in a only half faux show of horror. "What-- what are you doing here?" 

"I'm here to take you home, Harry," whispered Peter. "Come with me... my dear friend Sirius sent me--" 

A jet of red light shot through the clearing-- too soon. Pettigrew jumped away and hit a tree. Bits of bark sprayed everywhere. 

Peter's eyes widened. He whirled around like a cornered animal to find himself confronted by three sturdy-looking magic workers: Hermione, Sophie, and Remus. Behind Pettigrew, Harry himself pulled out his wand. 

Peter grinned savagely and threw himself to one side, rolling past another jet of light. He came up and pressed the Dark Mark burning on his arm. 

And suddenly the clearing was full of dark figures swathed in black-- 

_ Death Eaters. _

A/N: OOOH! I'm EVIL! Hehee, cliffhanger! Anyhoozle, I should have part five up soon (before you start tearing your hair out with your teeth) but the reason I didn't have this up before was that ff.n wasn't working right, so I sorta had to work around that an' all.... 

Lizyrd 


	5. Battle

Chapter Five   
Battle

Harry looked around wildy and saw Death Eaters on every side-- no way of escape. They would have to fight. And the odds were bad. "Stupefy!" roared twelve voices-- the Death Eaters'. 

Harry hit the dirt and heard the others do the same. Red flashes of light filled the clearing. Harry raised his wand and Stunned a Death Eater. He brought his head up to see what was going on. Sophie was doggedly defending herself with a Shield Charm against two Death Eaters. As Harry watched, she stunned one and clouted the other on the head with a handy tree branch. He went down like a stone. 

Hermione ducked behind a Death Eater and stunned him. Three Death Eaters started for Harry, but never got any farther. Two red-haired and one black-haired figures popped out of nowhere, throwing off an Invisibility Cloak and stunning one of them. One of the red-haired figures charged another, grappling for the wand and snapping it with the force of impact. 

Nicole White, apparently trained not only in magical defense, jammed an elbow into the remaining Death-Eater's gut, and administered an uncerimonial kick to the solar plexus, stunning him after he fell to the ground, winded. Nicole, Fred and George joined in a circle with Harry, moving around to fend off further attacks from the seven Death Eaters remaining. 

Remus had stunned Pettigrew and was desperately trying to hold off four of the remaining enemy, who were attempting to take Peter back. Nicole and Hermione vaulted over simultaneously and took on two of them. Remus broke free as Sirius arrived at the run, having heard the yells from his position on the edge of the forest. He glanced around, took in the situation, and calmly clubbed a Death Eater over the head. 

The Hogwartians rallied into a line, and when the few enemies left saw their opponents in an orderly mob (if there is such a thing), they took to the hills, fleeing through the forest and leaving Pettigrew to Remus. 

Harry looked around. None of the remaining Death Eaters were concious. 

"Are you all right?" asked Sophia with concern. "It was a jolly fight, except for us being out-numbered and not knowing if we would die, and all...." 

Harry shook his head. He didn't see how anyone could call violence "Jolly". 

"Is anyone hurt?" inquired Hermione, sounding just like Madam Pomfrey. 

"Uh, me," said Nicole. She was indeed; a long bloody gash across her thigh. 

"So'm I," voiced Fred. He too was injured, a deep short slash that cut across his chest. 

"Me too," volunteered Harry. The gash above his ear had opened again, mainly from a convient scratch from a handry tree limb. 

"Here," said Sophie, fishing for her hankerchief. She tossed it to Fred. "Keep that on your chest-- it should hold until we get back to the castle." 

Remus pulled out another square of white cloth and handed it to Harry. "That looks deep." 

"It's not, really," said Harry gratefully, holding the linen to his freely bleeding injury. "Why were there at all, George?" 

"Just couldn't resist-- and I thought you might need a little extra help." 

"I'll just limp along here," said Nicole, trying a few steps on her cut leg. 

"No need." George swooped down and picked her up easily. "I've done this before, remember?" 

"Don't remind me-- you'll depress me." 

The teachers, George and Hermione were not hurt beyond a few extra bruises and burns from the Stunners, so they all limped back up to the castle, Sirius, who was the least injured, carrying Pettigrew. They were met in the entrance hall by a worried Ron and an anxious Professor Dumbledore. Once he had the full story, the headmaster made them all go up to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey could treat the full range of their injuries as Professors McGonagall and Snape took charge of Pettigrew. 

Later that night, the Minister of Magic came into the hospital wing. "Mr. Black, your name is cleared; Pettigrew has confessed," he said officiously. In an undertone he added, "And I'm terribly sorry about Azkaban. It sure looked like you did it." 

Sirius cracked a grin. "Peter had it set up that way to do just what it did. But I'm glad my name's cleared." 

"WAIT A MOMENT!!" yelled Snape, charging through the double doors like a maddened bulldog. "MINISTER! I have proof that Harry Potter has been conspiring with Sirius Black!" 

"Yes, but he DID happen to know I was innocent," snapped Sirius, starting up off the edge of the bed where he was sitting. 

"Professor Snape!" Madam Pomfrey came out of her office, red in the face. "I must ask you to be quiet! I only just got Mr. Weasley, and Miss White to rest! They lost a lot of blood in that fight with those Death Eaters." 

"Lost a lot of blood my--" Snape seemed to think the better of what he was saying. "Very well Poppy," he said grudgingly. "Minister?" 

"Well, Snape," said Fudge, "I'm afraid that... uh, well, we can't get Potter arrested even if he WAS in contact with Mr. Black, because section 7 of the Law Enforcement document clearly states that you cannot apprehend someone for concealing the whereabouts of an innocent man, even if he was convicted. Since Mr. Black is most obviously innocent--" 

"Mr. Blue here almost got me killed once!" shrieked Snape. 

"Now, Severus," said Fudge, looking quite alarmed at Snape's unbalanced manner, "there is no evidence of that at all, no, no evidence." 

Dumbledore came in. "Ah, Sirius," he said, smiling. "Good to see you awake. Minister, I'm glad you're here. I'm offering a job to Sirius as a teacher and I need you to witness it." 

Snape's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "What?!?" he screeched. "But--" 

He fell silent when Madam Pomfrey strode over, pointing at the ward door. "OUT!" she ordered. "And don't come back until you can be QUIET!" She blushed suddenly and looked startlingly coy. To everyone's suprise, Snape flushed fiercely and strode from the hospital wing, looking back over his shoulder at Madam Pomfrey. 

"Of course, of course," said Fudge, hastily signing the parchment Dumbledore presented. "Must be going-- see you in a few days, I expect, Professor, Mr. Black." Seconds later he was gone. 

"What will this class I'm teaching be on?" asked Sirius with great interest. 

Dumbledore looked around furtively. "Well," he whispered, "it depends. You're pretty well rounded, Sirius, and so I thought this would be an optional class (for all those who want to take it) on just about anything they'd like." 

"All right!" exclaimed Sirius. "We can have some real fun with this." 

******** 

That Saturday Harry went down to breakfast early: he had been warned by Sirius, Remus and Sophie to come in early and watch the fun. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was a prank and that Fred and George had had a hand in it too. No one was there but himself, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Nicole, Sirius, Remus and Sophie. 

Soon he saw Snape slowly coming down the stairs fresh robes-- Sophie almost spewed orange juice across the table when she saw him, so great was her anticipating laughter. 

"A hint," whispered George. "We decided dear old Severus needed a shower." 

"Oh, so that's what that bucket of water hanging from thin air above the door frame is for," remarked Nicole innocently. 

"You'll see," said Fred mysteriously. As soon as Snape was inches away from coming in, Sirius called, "Severus, your hair looks remarkably like a charred sausage. Greasy-- don't you ever wash it?" It was-- it HAD to be --the signal. The bucket emptied, its contents landing squarely on Snape's head. But it wasn't water-- 

Orange juice was dripping out of Snape's hair and robes. The Marauders were falling over the table with laughter as Snape shook his head, sending the sticky liquid flying everywhere. A small pool collected at his feet. 

"What is that smell?" asked Harry. 

"Shampoo," Ron choked out. He was rolling on the floor in laughter at the sight of Snape, his hair dripping and the smell of strong shampoo coming off him in waves. 

"You little-" Snape started angrily toward the Marauders. 

"It wasn't us!" Remus gasped. "Look!" 

Peeves was floating near the ceiling in his wheelchair, another bucket in hand. "Peevesy weevesy's a naughty boy," he cackled. "See?" 

He scooped something from the bucket and threw it. It burst on Snape's head; a water balloon. "Old Snapie stunk, so Peevesy gave him a shower," squealed Peeves. He ducked under the doorframe and wheeled away through the air, still throwing balloons at Snape as he chased after Peeves. The sound of splattering water, water balloons bursting, and Snape's angry voice, shouting obscenities that would have had a student expelled, echoed throughout the castle. 

Colin Creevy came in. "Hey, did you guys get a load of Snape in the hall?" he asked. "That was brillant! What's he wearing, colonge?" 

Sirius looked musingly at Sophie. "You know, there's some possiblities there." 

And the entire table cracked up again. 

********* 

As it turned out, they didn't have to trick Snape into wearing colonge. In a desperate attempt to make himself more appealing to the opposite sex, Severus Snape had not only washed his hair, he was wearing aftershave. A few people said that this was not the worst of it, Hermione among them. Unfortunately for the entire school, they were right. 

Snape actually brushed his hair, his robes were suddenly sparkling clean, and he-- according to some, the final straw-- had actually shaved. The slightly-too long stubble was now smooth and short. 

Nothing could change his disposition, though. At classes, he was as uptight as ever, and at mealtimes he would hardly eat, mostly because glaring at the Marauders, (who were at the other end of the table,) left him little time for insignificant tasks like the basic nature of the human race-- survival. 

The reason for Snape's sudden change of personal hygiene became suddenly and drastically clear at dinner one night, a week before Christmas. After dinner, Dumbledore raised his hand, and the room fell slowly silent. 

"As you all know," he began, "Christmas is not very far away. Due to the many enthusiastic requests, we are going to continue the Yule Ball tradition, which usually only comes with the Triwizard Tournament. It will be on Christmas Night, as usual. I suggest you all have dancing partners before then, as it can be very awkward to go dancing alone." A few people chuckled. 

Later that week, Harry tried to think about who he could invite to come to the Ball. He had lost his taste for Cho Chang; Hermione had already asked someone (she had said so yesterday); Nicole was going with George, of course; Parvati Patil was going with Seamus Finnigan, so she was out. Harry cast his mind around desperately and it landed on Ginny. He thought it over carefully. He knew she'd be happy to go, and he didn't mind... at least, not really. Ginny had improved a lot since last year, and she was really very pretty now. 

But what would Ron say? 

********* 

Ron didn't seem to mind when he saw Harry in the entrance hall with Ginny the night of the Yule Ball. He even gave Harry a wink and muttered, "You did better than me," as he walked past with Padma Patil. 

Upon entering the Great Hall, Harry saw the setup was the same as last year; the house tables had been moved against the wall and about a hundred smaller tables were scattered around the room, each seating about twelve people. Harry managed to reserve a table for all his friends and their dates, and it was full by the time all of them had arrived. It was quite a mixed group, ranging from Hermione and Draco Malfoy to Sophie Willow and Remus Lupin. Harry was curious about the latter. 

"Are you guys hooked up, as Nicole would say?" he asked, "not to pry, or anything...." 

"Uh, not really..." said Sophie. 

"We both went stag, and ended up sitting next to each other," added Remus. 

"Stag?" inquired Harry blankly. 

"Neither of us actually went with anyone.... we'll just dance with whoever we feel like," explained Remus. 

"You're braver than me," laughed Harry. Sophie tisked at his lack of proper grammar. At last it was time to dance. Even the teachers got up onto the dance floor, and nearly every one of the students went out. Harry and Ginny went up as well; Harry feeling nervous. But it wasn't nearly as bad as he had remembered, he thought as he waltzed slowly around the room, Ginny leading. Finally he felt comfortable enough to look around at the other couples. Sirius and Trina were kicking their heels up in best American fashion nearby; both shot him identical evil grins as they saw him dancing awkwardly with Ginny. 

"I swear you did better than I did," muttered Sirius out of the corner of his mouth in passing. "Trina's a horrible-- ow!" 

Trina looked smug. "I heard that!" 

"Well, there was no call to go and step on my foot," said Sirius indignantly, rubbing the bruised appendage. 

"That's what you think," retorted Trina. 

Harry shook his head and steered himself gradually away. He didn't want to be around when they got to point of throwing the proverbial (or not so) water balloon. 

Harry grinned when he saw the next two people he recognized. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy waltzed slowly and romantically in a corner; Hermione's arms were wrapped around Draco's neck. Harry laughed: Draco looked nearly as uncomfortable as Harry. 

The evening passed in a pleasant blur of laughing, dancing and talking. Harry had more fun with Ginny than he'd ever had with any other girls besides Hermione and Nicole and by the end of the evening had a genuine affection for her. Ron's younger sister's quick wit, sarcasm and sense of a good time could make anyone laugh. 

Before Harry knew it, it was time to leave. Out in the entrance hall, dozens of couples were saying goodbye for the night, Hermione and Draco among them. Harry looked away quickly and saw Ron heading back up to the Gryffindor tower. He and Ginny jogged to catch up. "Did you get a load of Hermione?" asked Ron gleefully. 

"Whoa yeah," replied Ginny, adopting Nicole's slang for a moment. "Hermione and Malfoy-- how strange is that?" 

Nicole, Fred and George joined them. "No stranger than Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley," George grinned. Ginny blushed scarlet and gave him an elbow in the ribs, saying, "Hey, Harry asked me!" 

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry mumbled. 

"Guess he just loved the wild side of our little sister," said Fred, also showing his teeth wickedly. 

"If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much room," quipped Nicole. 

"As you are proof of." 

********* 

Harry and Ron were passing by the library a few weeks later when Sirius poked his head out and hissed, "Harry! Ron! Come in for a moment, won't you?" 

Harry followed Sirius through a bewildering maze of shelves to the very back of the library, where, tucked into a small rescess with several chairs, were several people. 

"Hello, Harry, Ron," said Remus casually, leaning back into his chair. "Take a seat, before they're all gone." There was a tiny couch at the back of the niche, and Harry and Ron sat down, feeling puzzled.Sophie came in, leading Fred and George, Hermione and Nicole. 

"Found 'em," she said, and let go of their ears. "Have a seat." She motioned toward the couch. Fred and George squeezed on to the pillows while Hermione and Nicole plunked into chairs and Sophie sat down. Sirius was left to sprawl on the floor. 

"Well you may be wondering why we dragged you all here," said Remus with a grand sweep of his hand. 

"To put it midly," interjected Fred. 

"Well, we have set a goal this New Year's," explained Sirius. "And we need your help." 

"Oh?" Nicole was skeptical. "And what goal would that be?" 

"To thoroughly ruin Snape's life by the end of January," said Sophie solemnly. 

Fred began to laugh. "And what made you set this-- goal?" he inquired. 

"Our reputation as Marauders must be revived." 

"No use in dishonoring James when we're all here." 

George, too, began to snigger. "And have we got just the thing," he snickered, pulling something from the inside of his robes. "Gentlemen, ladies, I present to you this photograph, taken by one Natilie McDonald, aspiring wizard photographer." 

It was a small, wizarding color picture, of Snape. The odd thing was, he had a wistful expression on his face and seemed to be gazing at something in his palm. As Harry watched, the figure blinked and displayed the object-- a small green sequin. 

Fred now produced another photograph. "Sibyl Trelawnrey, Divination teacher; photograph also taken by N. McDonald." 

Sure enough, it was Trelawnrey in her favorite green sequin dress, gazing into her crystal ball. Her face eerily reflected the glowing light. 

"And lastly, our informant N. McDonald managed to get a picture of a certain Poppy Pomfrey." Madam Pomfrey smiled for the camera and blushed a little. Her feather duster flicked up and down. "So?" asked Hermione. 

Fred toyed with them on the coffee table. "Aha! See if you can figure it out now. Give you a hint: it's something you would NOT expect from Snape." But he didn't get half finished before someone caught on. "Jesus Christ!" exclaimed Sophie. "You are NOT implying what I think you are...." 

"Yup!" Fred nodded vigorously. 

"If old Snapey's hormones are finally hitting him at thirty-two, that's pretty sad," mumbled Sirius. 

"Aaaah!" whispered Ron. "I'm only sixteen! Don't subject me to this!" 

"I've got to admit, it is pretty horrific," confessed Remus wryly. 

"But the big question is.... how can we mess it up?" asked Harry. 

"The big question is, do we want to demote Snape in Trelawnrey's eyes or do we want to get them in to the most awkward and embarrassing situations possible," Nicole corrected. 

"Get them in the most awkward and embarrassing situations possible," chorused Hermione and Ron together. 

"And the perfect place to do so would be--" 

"Sirius's class!" said Sophie, her eyes gleaming evilly. 

"We can have them as guests," suggested Remus. 

"And make them talk about their opinions about changing the lives of people!" added Hermione. Everyone looked at her. 

"Some people would say that Divination can change people's lives. Snape doesn't think much of Divination, so we could have him talk about potions that could change people's lives!" 

"Like love potions?" asked Sophie slyly. 

"Exactly. Or--" Samantha Killos came into sight, carrying a large book, and Hermione quickly shut up as Samantha headed towards the next niche over. Ron coughed loudly as she passed, and Samantha looked up. "Ron!" she said, backtracking quickly to the shelves and hiding the hand with the book behind her back. "What are you doing here?" 

"Studying?" suggested Harry innocently. 

"Right, well, I'll be going, then," said Samantha, and ducked out. Ron stared after her for a moment, puzzled. 

"Weird bloke," he said, frowning. 

"Yeah, well, it got rid of her," said Harry, trying desperately to hid his laughter. 

********** 

Sirius's first class was in a little over a week, and Harry watched with trepidation as it drew nearer. But on the afternoon before the big event, something horrible occured to him. He mentioned it to Nicole as they tramped through the freezing castle to Potions. "How in the world is Sirius going to get Snape to come?" wondered Harry. 

"Just wait and see... the Marauders have their little ways." Nicole grinned. "Remember, I know-- I lived with Sirius over the summer." 

"If you say so," said Harry. 

They arrived at an unused classroom that was soon to be Sirius's a little before eight o'clock. The place was filthy; dust and dirt adorned the floor and desktops. Sirius stood in the middle of it all, looking with dismay around a very large crate. 

"I've dropped my wand," he said, annoyed. Nicole spotted the wand immediately. "It's on the teacher's desk," she said, blinking. 

"Oh. Thank you." 

"What IS that, Sirius?" asked Harry curiously. 

"This? Oh, this is the Mirror of Erised," said Sirius innocently. 

"WHAT? How did you get Dumbledore to lend that to you?" Nicole was incredulous. Sirius waved his wand casually and the dust and dirt disappeared. "Oh, I just said I was curious as to how it worked," he answered, a little too confidently. 

"Sirius," said Harry, beginning to laugh, "what do you want with that mirror?" 

"I'm going to use it as an example of how things can change your life." Sirius flicked a speck of dust off the crate and began to unpack. "I figured it'd be good to have Snape know his true heart's desire." 

"Better leave a window open, so he can jump out of it," said Ron, poking his head into the doorway, "or not. If he wants to commit suicide, he can break the window himself. It's too cold out there." 

"But he'd be much more inclined to leap if the window were open," argued Hermione, shouldering past Ron into the room. She began to help Sirius uncover the Mirror, and before long they had it standing up against one wall. 

"Forget Snape," muttered Harry, "I wanna know what Trelawnrey sees." 

"My powers of prediction tell me she will see herself with a huge pet Grim next to her predicting death omens in a gaudy shop." Hermione cracked the evillest grin Harry had even seen on her. "And a blue china cup of tea convienently placed so she can knock it over in shock when her customer storms out." 

Sirius laughed. "I was in school with her, did you know? The Divination teacher back then was a nice old lady named Eliza Grant. Nothing like Sibyl-- hated her, in fact. Professor Grant had a strong mystical side, but didn't like the dramatic. I've never seen a person more dramatic than Sibyl." 

"Sibyl sounds like a cat's name," commented Nicole. 

"Or a batty old Divination teacher's," sniggered Hermione. 

Snape came in. "How very touching," he remarked, his eyes roving over the scene. "Enjoying a little family troublemakers' reunion, are we?" He took a seat. 

Sophie stormed in. "Sirius, Sibyl's refusing to come in until the class does--" she stopped short when she saw Snape. 

"Fine," sighed Sirius. "Let her wait. Put her in the cold drafty corridor beside Flitwick's room, two over, and leave her there until we're ready." 

"Throwing around colleagues like dolls?" sneered Snape. "How very touching." 

"You've said that already," Remus pointed out, entering. He carried a large stack of books. "Here you are, Sirius." 

"Thank you," said Sirius, glaring at Snape. "Put them over there, on the cabinet, please." 

"What are those for?" asked Hermione, interested. 

"To make him look more offical, of course," spat Snape. 

"Snape, you have two options. You may either leave, or get out," barked Remus irritably, turning. Harry noticed his normally green eyes were glowing a sharp bluish color. Harry looked out the window-- the full moon! 

"I will accept neither, werewolf," hissed Snape. 

Remus pulled the side of one lip up to show the slightly too long canine in an act of suprisingly wolf-like disdain. "Fine then, but shut up." 

Fred and George entered, taking seats on either side of Snape. More people began to filter in slowly. A group of Ravenclaws fell into seats in the back row, shivering. A herd of Hufflepuffs eyed Sirius warily and bunched at one end of the desks. Nearly all the Gryffindors entered and occupied the front row; comfortable around Sirius only because of having priorly met him. Trina came in, dragging Sibyl with her; Trelawnrey took a seat at the teacher's desk, much to everyone's displeasure. Last to come were a few surly Slytherins, including Malfoy. He took a seat next to Hermione as Harry himself sat at one of the few empty desks. 

Sirius, apparently ignoring the quiet mutterings around the room, explained the premisis of the class. "And so, we have today my colleagues Severus Snape and Sibyl Trelawney. Sibyl, Severus, please stand up," he concluded. Fred looked up hastily as Snape stood. George glanced guiltily at Sirius. "Please come up here," said Sirius politely. Snape began to walk forward-- 

And he was falling, tripping over the cleverly disguised thread barrier that the Weasley twins had rigged at about ankle height. 

"Oh no!" exclaimed Sirius, almost unbearably courteous. "Let me help you up!" 

"Get away from me, Black," spat Snape. He levered himself to his feet, blushing fiercely when Trelawney looked at him with disgust. 

"Now, I understand you two both major in areas of magic people would classify as life-changing," continued Sirius. "How would you say it affected your life?" 

Snape realized he had to put on a good show, and gave some B.S. answer. "Uh, I think-- I think it has really helped me to understand and to-- to communicate with people." Harry tried valiantly to keep his rib-breaking laughter under control. The Weasley twins' faces turned an odd shade of red as they fought desperately against the ineviteble snickers. 

"To me, it has helped me reach my inner self," said Trelawney haughtily. Hermione's face contorted strangely as she attempted to hold in giggles. "Very nice," said Sirius, not paying the slightest bit of attention. "Now, I would like you both to look into this mirror, here, one at a time, very good..." Trelawney blushed bright red and looked more like an insect than ever as she did so. Snape, on the other hand, paled, his eyes bugged, and he looked unspeakably angry. 

"Thank you," said Sirius, pulling them both away from the mirror. "Now, would either one of you describe what you saw as life-changing?" 

Trelawney's eyelashes fluttered. "Oh, yes, insights are always life-changing." Nicole snorted. Snape's turn. "Oh, well, I wouldn't call it life-changing, but it certainly was interesting..." Harry doubled over, ducking beneath the table as Colin Creevy turned a laugh into a hacking cough. "Now, Professor Snape, if someone put a Love Potion in your pumpkin juice that made you fall in love with Sibyl here, would you be angry?" 

"Yes I'd be angry!" snarled Snape, losing his composure for a moment. 

"Why, Severus, you of all people should know that this was a trick question! Very few can detect a Love Potion-- why, one might almost think you had real feelings for her." Sirius was obviously trying to be as annoying as possible; he laughed heartily and his voice was animated. The entire class found this hilarious as well. There was a loud thump as Natalie McDonald's chair fell over backwards onto the stone floor. 

Trelawney laughed as well, saying, "That's the best joke I've heard in a while, Sirius." Snape's face twisted with fury. 

That was pretty much it for the night. Peeves popped up unannounced and started singing, "Snape and Trelawney, sittin' in a tree". Professor Trelawney found this extremely amusing, but when Peeves declared they had to kiss or he wouldn't stop, ever, the smile was wiped from her face. Snape flatly refused, of course, and when the class had left, Harry asked him about it. 

"That wasn't me, either," chuckled Sirius. "And knowing Peeves, he really won't stop until they kiss." 

Sophie covered her face with her hand. "This should be horrific," she told them. 

"Maybe she'd find Snape more attractive in a green dress with a fox fur scarf and a stuffed vulture hat," suggested Ron innocently. 

Harry nearly fell over laughing. 

Sirius let Harry try out the Mirror of Erised before they left. This time, Harry was prepared, and told himself harshly that his mum and dad were dead and looking at images wouldn't bring them back. But this time, he got a suprise. 

Lily, James, a small, elven-faced, pointy-eared, green eyed, black haired woman and one of Harry's grandfathers weren't the only people. 

Surrounding him were people he really knew. Fred, George, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Nicole, Sophia Willow, Sirius, and Remus stood around him, smiling. They all had a part to play in his family. Harry blinked and looked away. 

"Thanks, Sirius," he mumbled, and left, still laughing over Snape; still happy to see some people he really knew as part of his family. 

Harry climbed into his bed and fell asleep. 

A/N: Good Lord, that was a long chapter. GRR! I don' like formatting! Waaaanhaaa! Anyhoozle, I can't believe I said I like this piece of.... dusty old dry vaguely literate tripe. (How can tripe be literate? Don't ask... I'm strange...) 

A Lizyrd Who Has Been On the Computer WAY TOO LONG! 


	6. Plans

Chapter Six   
Plans 

The next morning Harry walked down to breakfast alone. It was Sunday; he had slept so late he had fifteen minutes to get down to the Great Hall and eat. 

"Pssst! Harry! We've gotta talk," said a disembodied voice from apparently nowhere. 

Harry jumped about a foot in the air and turned hurriedly. He saw no one. 

"Over here," whispered the voice again, and Harry spied Remus Lupin poke his head out of the semi-hidden doorway into his office. 

"Remus," mumbled Harry wearily, "I'm on my way to breakfast." 

"Come on in-- I've got food all laid out in here." 

Harry hesitated for a moment, but the prospect of skipping the long walk to the Great Hall and simply eating was tempting. He followed Remus. 

"Close the door, won't you, Harry?" asked Remus. "What we're going to be planning can't be shouted all over the school." 

Harry didn't like the sound of that; "planning", but he did as Remus requested. 

Sophie Willow was, as Harry could have predicted, already there, and Fred and George huddled in a corner of the room, pouring over a parchment. "What's up?" asked Harry curiously. 

"Oh, just a little plot to help out Sirius...." said Sophie innocently. 

"Okay, you two," said Harry, rolling his eyes, "what're you up to?" 

"Have a seat and grab some toast," invited Sophie, "and we'll tell you." 

Harry took a piece of buttered toast and bit into it eagerly. "You may have noticed there were about fifty people in Sirius's class last night." Sophie looked smug. "Sirius is never going to be able to deal with a class that size, so I figure we'll do him a favor and chase most of them away. To educate them in the stuff that even Dumbledore doesn't teach, which is what we're planning to do, we need the die-hard, last-ditchers anyway." 

"And just how are you planning to 'chase most of them away'?" asked Harry worriedly. He didn't like the sound of this at all. 

"Oh, just a couple of scares," said Remus vaugely. "Figure we'll have the Bloody Baron come in-- if he agrees --and tell the kids he'll be helping out the next few lessons. That should scare at least Neville away." 

"And we'll have Hagrid demonstrate the uses of Dark animals with Fluffy," added Fred, who had come over. "And my cohort, Monseiur George, has volunteered to show the class the tracks of a certain spider named Aragog." 

Remus stared. "How do you two know about Aragog?" 

"Oh, ran into him in the forest a couple years back," said George, looking up, "why?" 

"Aragog was running rampant in the Forbidden Forest twenty five years ago," commented Sophie. "It was Remus, James and Sirius who finally tracked him down and made a deal with him." 

"How did you possibly do that?" asked Fred. 

"I was in werewolf form, and the others were in their Animagi forms, so Aragog had no interest in us as a source of food." 

"Anyway," interrupted Sophie, "getting back to the point, we're also going to have Peeves bring in some Cornish Pixies and let them run rampant." 

"Does Sirius know about all this?" queried Harry, grinning. 

"Of course not," answered Remus, looking offended. "You give us too little credit as Marauders-- why spoil good fun?" 

"Sorry I ever doubted you," muttered Harry sarcastically. "Oh forgive me before I fall on my knees and beg." 

"That's the spirit," applauded Sophie. "James would be proud!" 

"Actually, it sounds more like Sirius." Remus scrutinized the Marauder's Map. 

"Aha!" Sophie leaned over and tapped the map with her wand. "Right there." 

"What's there?" asked George, coming over. 

"A boggart," explained Remus, "that we're going to use to frighten the hell out of Sirius's students." 

"Rejoice, for I am here," said Fred, also standing up. "We're good to go, Remus." 

"What've you two got?" asked Harry suspiciously. He peered at the parchment in Fred's hands. " 'Messers Padfoot, Prongs, Moony and Wormtail, aids to magical mischief makers, present: The Marauder's Detailed Map of Hogwarts Grounds'," Harry read aloud. "Where'd you get this?" 

"Sirius," whispered George confidentally, "he gave it to us. Said it might come in handy. 

"You've found Aragog's tracks?" interjected Sophie. 

"Yeah," said Fred offhandedly, "and a dead unicorn." 

"What?" Sophie and Remus leapt for the map simultaneously, the result being a jumble of arms and legs as Fred went down with a resounding thump. Once everyone had gotten back up on their various appendages, Remus looked at the map again. "You're right," he said wonderingly. "A dead unicorn." 

Harry leaned over the map. Sure enough, there was a small dot on the edge of the forest, labeled-- quite simply --"A Dead Unicorn". 

"Strange," murmured Sophie. "Hagrid hadn't mentioned anything." 

******** 

Once again, Harry could hardly wait until Sirius's class. Everyone filed in, and Sophie winked at Harry surreptiously and gestured under the table to a large cabinet. Harry guessed that was where they had hidden the boggart. 

Sure enough, when Sirius opened the cupboard to show the class some baby grindelows, the boggart came out, and stopped, confused. 

In respective order, it switched from: a moon to a rat; a mummy to Snape; a giant spider to a Dementor; and a large blob of goo. Sophie blinked innocently as it turned to her and began to transform into a strange sort of swirly gray cloud. "Riddiculus!" shouted Sophia, and leapt forward. The boggart was now Snape in a green hospital gown with a pink triangle on it. For some reason, Sirius seemed to find this hysterically funny, and 'Snape' exploded into a whisp of smoke. The class had not yet calmed down and only a few of them had picked themselves up off the dusty floor when all Hell broke loose. 

Remus loosed the pixies. 

Suddenly the room was bombarded by small electric blue flying menaces, who crashed out the windows, grabbed the chandelier and effectively made the place look as if a nuclear bomb had hit it. Two of them began to bludgeon the wall with large sticks, and another had gotten a hold of a wand and was blasting the ceiling. Chunks of mortar and bits of stone rained down as one pixie uprooted a tile and seized a hot water pipe, showering everything with hot chocolate. "What's up with the hot chocolate?" shouted Harry over the noise of shrieking students. 

"Peeves," replied Remus wearily. "He's continually making the hot water pipes turn into hot chocolate pipes. It's an obsession." 

The pixie with the wand had yanked the extiguished candles out of the chandelier and was hurling them at Neville, who whimpered and cowered under his desk as a gang of blue pests grabbed the downed lighting system and began to force it out the window. They shattered the glass and finally fit it through, flying it out over the lawns and dropping it in the lake, where a giant tentacle pulled it underneath the surface. 

Cho Chang yelled as she was carried out the door by three pixies and uncerimoniously dumped on top of a suit of armor. Furious, she snatched a pixie and hit it over the head. The pixie dragged her all the way down the corridor, squeaking. 

Remus, Sophie and Harry were doubled over as Sirius bit his lip, torn between anger and amusment. He gave in to the latter and joined Harry underneath a desk, laughing. When all the pixies had grabbed a victim and left, Sirius stood up in front of the class. 

"Well, now we're all suitably invigorated," he joked, grinning, "let's go see what Hagrid--" Several people screamed. The Bloody Baron, looking particularly pale and horrible, glided straight through the floor and hovered over Milicent Bulstrode, who looked positively terrified. "And let's go see what Hagrid has procured for us," finished Sirius, shooting an extremely expressive glare at Sophia Willow. 

"He's catching on," muttered Remus, smiling. 

"Took him long enough," snorted Sophie in a loud, perfectly audible stage whisper. Sirius gave them another black look. The class filed out of the room, watching the looming shadows warily and jumping at small noises. Sirius pulled Harry aside briefly. "Harry," Sirius whispered, some undecipherable emotion on his face, "tell me you were in that little heist there with the pixies." 

"Uh, yeah," confessed Harry, confused. 

"Good," smirked Sirius, a smile dawning, "because no son of James would stay out or go to a-- ahem, teacher." 

Harry was left staring after Sirius in astonishment as Sirius sprinted leggily down the corridor to catch up with his class. After a moment of inital shock, he ran to join them. 

Nicole fell back to walk with Harry. "Hello, noble hero who has saved the wizarding world only three times but has also cleared the name of an innocent man," she said, obviously playful. 

"And what is that supposed to mean?" asked Harry, completely lost. 

"It means I'm in a good mood," explained Nicole. 

"Ladeda for you," muttered Harry. "It seems like I've been confused and lost and generally sporadic all day," he complained. 

" 'Generally sporadic'..." repeated Nicole thoughtfully. "Excellent phrasing." 

Hagrid was waiting for them. "All right, all right... gather 'round," he called. "Now, there's nothin' ter be afraid of, because Fl-- this little beastie's perfectly all righ'." He pulled the crate to one side, revealing a giant, three headed dog. 

"Now this 'ere's Fluffy," said Hagrid hurriedly as the nearest people backed away hastily. "Fluffy?" Millicent Bulstrode sneered in the background. Hagrid didn't seem to notice. "He's the best guard dog this side o' America. Bought 'im off a Greek chappie--" 

Sirius coughed loudly. "Anyway," Hagrid continued, "he's very useful... great dog, this..." Fluffy drooled and snarled at Neville. George popped up, his face smeared with white plaster. "We're ready," he whispered to Remus. 

"Okay," Remus whispered back. "Ah, thank you, Hagrid," he said loudly. "We've learned a lot. Now, if you students will just step this way--" Sirius, confused, looked around, but there was little he could do. The class followed George to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. 

"Here are the tracks of a giant spider," said George without preamble. "He lives in the forest and his name is Aragog. If ever you should bump into him, the appropriate course would be to scream like hell and run." 

The class chuckled nervously. Fred held up a huge plaster cast of the track. "You can see how big it is, of course--" began George, but Sirius interrupted him. "Ah, yes, and that seems to be all we have time for," Sirius concluded. "Hurry on back to the school now." The students gladly filed back up to the school, extremely confused by short, abrupt, and weird lesson. Sirius snagged Sophia's arm. "I want to talk to you and Remus." 

"Good, because we've got a thing or two to say to you." Sophie suppressed a grin at Sirius's death glare. 

Harry shook his head, exceptionally glad to be excluded from this particular conference. He walked back to his dormitory, where Hedwig was perched. "What are you doing here?" he asked in surprise. "Well, I guess I'll just let you back out," Harry sighed as Hedwig hooted. She refused to go back out, however, and so Harry just fell into bed, muttering, "I know I've said this before, but it's been a VERY weird night.." 

******* 

At breakfast that morning, barely anyone could eat-- they were all laughing too hard at the antics of Sirius, who was hitting shamelessly on McGonagall. McGonagall was blushing, Sirius was trying desperately to surpress his own mirth, and Harry just sat there, chuckling helplessly. Nicole entered, took one look at Sirius, and collapsed into a fit of giggles. She slid weakly into a seat beside Harry, trying to say something, but amid the giggles it just sounded like, "Froggall and swansis have got some problems." 

"Uh, what?" Harry looked at her like she was deranged. Nicole took a swig of orange juice and coughed. "I said, Sirius and McGonagall are really messed up." 

"Why?" 

"Look at her! She thinks Sirius is-- well, serious." 

"So?" 

"That is really sick! McGonagall is thirty years older than Sirius!" 

"Your point?" Harry was rapidly becoming irritable. 

Nicole just shook her head and fell silent. Harry distinctly heard her mutter under her breath, "Brittish.. Limeys......" 

******** 

"Harry! Harry!" 

"Wha?" asked Harry groggily. He had only just fallen asleep-- it wasn't time to get up yet, surely. No, the room was still dark. "Harry! Wake up!" The voice was different this time, female and urgent. "Oh, Harry, get up." 

Harry sat up, reaching for his glasses. "What is it?" he demanded, irritable. He looked around and gasped. Two figures swam before him, a wavering picture of a tall woman with long flaming hair and sharp green eyes; and an even taller man. The man's messy sable hair stuck up at the back, and his raven-wing eyes were kind and piercing. 

"Mum?" Harry blinked. "Dad?" 

"Harry, I can't explain right now," the man said in a deep, even, and worried tone. "Just, just do as we say, and remember we love you." He vanished. 

The woman's snakey locks shuddered as she shook her head. "Isn't that just like James? But Harry, you MUST get up to the astronomy tower-- black tides are in motion, and they will drown us all if we do not stop them. Voldemort is on the rise once again, greater and more powerful, and if you and your friends fail, we'll all be swallowed by the Dark waves." 

"My friends?" Harry was wide-awake, or mostly, for his vision sharpened, and he realized he could see right through the woman. "Your friends are just as important. Rely on them, for they are human, and they love you. Do not fail. Go." 

"Right," he muttered. 

The woman faded, her voice becoming an echo. "And do not forget, Harry, there are currents in motion even we do not understand, and things are not always as they seem." 

Harry listened intently, but the message was done. So. Astronomy tower, was it? He could do that. No doubt in his mind that someone wanted him to do something, he pulled on his boots, grabbed his invisibility cloak, and hurried down into the common room. "Who's there, so late at night?" the Fat Lady squawked, but Harry ignored her and pushed the portrait hole shut again. He turned to go, and seconds later something slammed him in the back. He whirled, forgetting he was invisible, and found himself face to face with Nicole. "Oh," he sighed, letting the cloak slide off him. "I thought the proverbial door had hit me in the back." 

"It did" was the reply. "Which was really strange, taking into account nothing appeared to be there." Nicole's violet eyes were giving off a strange purple luminescence, considering there was only a dim light in the hall, and this weird form of illumination lit everything within a foot. "Astronomy tower too?" queried Harry uncomfortably, aware she'd probably think he was raving. Nicole nodded. "Let's go." 

Harry held out the Invisibity Cloak as she slipped under it. Following, Harry was engulfed in almost pitch-blackness; the lavender glow in Nicole's eyes seemed to be masked by the folds of silvery cloth. Cursing and stumbling, they made their slow and painstaking way towards the staircase that led to the tower. During this brief period, Harry learned more swear words than he'd ever heard from Sirius, Sophie, Fred, George and Ron combined, and, out of curiousity, asked where she had learned her colorful language. 

"My uncle Nick swears like hell," explained Nicole, suppressing a curse as she stubbed her toe painfully on a suit of armor. "He taught my mother, Trina, and she taught me. As you may have noticed, my mother and all her friends are screaming liberals." 

"Yes, I noticed that," remarked Harry dryly. "Americans." 

"Shhh!!" Nicole clamped a hand over his mouth and dove for a small alcove that a sleep-walking statue had vacated, Harry clutching the cloak to keep it from sliding off. 

They were just in time, for perhaps a minute later, Snape walked by, muttering and glancing about suspiciously. Harry fairly fainted when he looked their way, his eyes widening and nostrils diliating. When he had passed, Nicole stepped back out into the corridor. "Hurry!" 

A ghost of a voice whispered down the hallway, gliding into every corner. Harry had the odd impression it was searching for him. A slight breeze washed over the cloak, and the sensation grew stronger. "Hurry! You must go faster!" 

Nicole threw off the cloak and started sprinting, pratically flying down through the castle in her haste. "Nicole," panted Harry, running to keep up. "What are you doing?" She slowed, but only a little. "Harry, you heard that voice. I know you won't believe it, but your mom showed up beside my bed and told me it was vital that I get to the astronomy tower. She said something like, 'Speed is of the utmost importantce. If dawn cracks the horizon before you know that which you face, flee, for the downfall of Hogwarts is settled. Many lives hang in the balance, and the legacy of magic depends on you and Harry.' " 

Harry gaped at her. "Why is it that my mum tells you more than she tells me?" 

"I don't know-- my mother, Trina, was her best friend, though. What time is it?" 

Harry looked down at his wrist, then remembered he didn't have his watch on. "I don't know." They kept running, dodging corners and skidding to halts before plunging down the staircases. Nicole found a clock, and that only increased their urgency-- it was nearly five in the morning. 

They paused for breath, facing a spiral stairwell, and both bit off shrieks as pale hands clamped their shoulders. "Off for a little before dawn run are we," said a cold voice. "Very touching. I daresay the headmaster'll find it interesting. This castle's not safe after dark, you know." 

The hands on their shoulders turned them around, the grip like iron. It was Snape, of course, his dark eyes glittering strangely and his mouth set in a strange smile. "Professor," pleaded Nicole, "we're not without reason. Go up to the astronomy tower with us and you'll see." 

"I think not," whispered Snape, the smile growing more pronounced. 

"Damn," muttered Nicole quietly. "We're not getting out of this the easy way." 

"I'd say not," agreed Snape, whose keen ears had heard every word. 

"Right then," said Nicole, trading a glance with Harry. Suddenly a thought echoed in his mind. _ We could force him to let go, and then run like hell. _ It sounded oddly like Nicole. 

_ Nicole? _ asked Harry, startled. 

_ Oh, hey, did I forget to mention this? Remember when we were all spun together last year? Telepathy happened to be a feature of that interesting little opus. George and I found that out one day. I thought I keep it in reserve for an emergency. This looks like one, doesn't it? _

"What are you two doing?" snapped Snape sharply, breaking their concentration neatly. Harry looked at Nicole again, and suddenly, perfectly, and choriographically, kicked Snape in the soft muscle just below the knee, just as Nicole grabbed aforementioned teacher's finger and bent it backwards savagely. 

Snape howled, trying to clutch both his finger and his knee at once, hoppig with pain and nearly crashing into a painting. Nicole and Harry fled. They raced up to the staircase, Snape hobbling along behind them, and climbed up it as fast as they could, panting and scrabbling in their haste. Soon they were out of hearing range-- Snape's cursing vanished and an eerie silence fell. When they finally reached the trapdoor that lead to the tower, they were both exhausted. Having to get up this early was not really Harry's thing, and he climbed the ladder slowly. Soft light was pouring from somewhere up ahead, a silvery glow that almost obliterated the weak torches. 

As she got to the top, Nicole let out a small yelp. Six huddled figures were conversing in low tones at the other end of the dew-slick parapet, crouched around something long and oval-- it looked like a mirror. One of them turned at Nicole's quickly stifled noise of suprise. It was Sophie. "What are you doing here?" she frowned, tense, then forced herself to relax visibly. Nicole was not taken in-- the other people were Fred, George, Trina, Remus and Sirius. "What are you all doing here at five fifteen?" she asked suspiciously. 

"Well, all the nutters are out in force tonight, aren't they?" sneered a voice. Trina whirled; it was Snape. He was still limping, but he seemed to have recovered his full malice. Perhaps the kick had only helped. "Snape," said Sophia pleasantly, grinning in a not-quite-so reassuring way. "So nice to see you. Why doesn't it stay that way?" There was a faint undertone of lurking menace in her tone. 

"Yes, it is rather enjoyable to be out from under the eye of... partial judges, isn't it?" inquired Snape, his voice like a whisper of wet silk across a smooth slate. "Oh, come on, you two," sighed Sirius, "and get along for once. We've got a real problem here." 

"What problem, that she's a stuck up prig?" smirked Snape. Sophia pointed her wand at the trapdoor and it closed with a dull bang. The lock slid into place with a sharp click. 

"Sophie," warned Remus. 

"I don't care," retorted Sophie, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder like a petulant child. "I've waited too long for this." 

Remus stood up, strode over to her quickly, and whispered something in her ear. Harry couldn't quite make out what it was, but it sounded like, "Chorus.... mumble mumble mumble, seed.... mumble, mumble... what happened last time." 

Snape looked from one to the other, a curious expression on his face-- until horror masked it, as whatever it was they were talking about dawned on him. Sophia noticed, gestured, and whispered something to Remus. He glanced Snape, and abruptly cut off the conversation. 

"Snape," ordered Sophie languidly, "stand over there, and be quiet. Sirius, I want to get back to scrying. Would you be so kind as to guard Mr. Greasy over there?" 

Sirius rolled his eyes, but got up and walked over to Snape, who was next to Harry. Harry seized the opportunity to whisper, "What's a Chorus?" 

"Not now, Harry," was the curt reply. Fred, moving for the first time, beckoned Harry over to the mirror; Trina scooted over to make room for him. Sophie came over, crouched before the mirror, and chanted softly: 

Mirror mirror, before me lie   
Just give up and let me scry. 

The mirror spoke in a grumpy voice: "That was the most pathetic rhyme in the history of reflective glass. Can't you come up with something better than that?" The silver surface went milky white. "Well, what do you expect for five thirty in the morning?" asked Sophie irritably. 

"I agree with the mirror," called Sirius from his position next to Snape. "That was a lousy poem." 

"I rather liked it," Remus protested. 

"Where do we want to go?" demanded the mirror. 

"Three miles off of the Val mountain range." 

"In which direction?" 

"West, please-- sector 35A, 67D of the Vale area." 

"Oh, phooey. There's some hot girl taking a skinny dip over to the south some-- well, almost three hundred miles, but....." 

"A pervert mirror," muttered Fred. "What in hell is this world coming to?" 

"Hey!" the mirror cried, indignant. "I never said I wanted to spy on her!" 

"Yeah, but that's what you meant, isn't it?" 

"Erm, yes... a bit..." 

"Uh-oh." This un-astounding remark was intoned in such a voice of dread and utter terror that all heads swivled toward the sound. Fred pointed, white faced, to the mirror, whose blankness had vanished. Instead, a large plain, backed by mountains, was in view, and swarming across the field were hundreds upon hundreds of black figures, moving seemingly slowly yet at a great, ground-eating pace. They moved like ants, fouling all the army had walked on, and a black cloud seemed to precede them. 

"Damn," muttered Remus. "At the exact coordinates you predicted." 

"What in bloody hell IS that?" asked Harry in amazment. 

"A Dark Army," said Sophie cheerfully. Harry gaped. "Yeah, it's great, isn't it? Going straight for Hogwarts, too." 

Harry retrieved his jaw from the floor. "Sophie," intoned Trina reprovingly, "not everyone has your-- erm, rather WEIRD sense of humor." 

"I know that," Sophie snapped back. "We'd better go tell Dumbledore, and we can drop off this--" she pointed at Snape "-- pail of offal along the way." Everyone descended. Snape and Sirius went first, awkwardly, because Sirius still had to guard him. In Harry's eyes, Snape needed that guarding. One of his cheeks was ticking madly and he looked more than a wee bit deranged-- as if he might leap for a throat at any point. 

Sophia came last, and, as Harry descended down the ladder, heard her giggle, "Oh, this is going to be fun." Harry shook his head. What the heck was she talking about? Certainly not war being fun? All of them trooped up to Dumbledore's office, not a one of them even considering that he might not be awake. Luckily for all of them, he was, although, a large fuzzy green bathrobe was draped about his shoulders. 

Wasting no time, Sophia explained what she had seen, and during the course of the following discussion, Harry learned several things. One, that Sophie, at least, had been up on the tower scrying since the first night of the year. Two, that she had inside contacts (she refused to name them) actually in Voldemort's inner circle, and so knew all the plans that the commanding officers did. "According to my resources, Moldywarts has got some white haired old quack as his second in command, and this wizard dude has the backup of an entire squad of winged horses and their riders. This is gonna be one tough cookie." Sophie smiled grimly. "But then, I can dredge up a small army of those riders-- on our side." 

"Excellent," said Dumbledore, who looked quite worried, for the first time Harry had ever seen him. "If you would do so, I would be-- er, 'eternally grateful'. After you call these, uh, riders, I wish you to continue scrying with your-- ah, troops." 

"Very good," Sophie nodded, "I'll call Them right away." Something in the way she said it suggested it was a capital 'T'. 

"Who's 'Them'?" asked George, thoroughly confused. 

"Don't you EVER pay attention in History of Magic?" sighed Trina. Nicole just looked at her. "All right," Trina chuckled, "you don't. But I remember Professor Binns well enough-- small wonder you sleep at the desks. Anyway, 'Them' as my colleague so aptly put it, are the First Riders." 

"Who?" 

"The First Riders! Something wrong with your ears? The First were the first witches and wizards, the Magi, from Naevaerland. The First Riders were an elite group of Warrior Magi who rode winged horses in the later days, after Naevaerland had split. It was a hit-and-run force. 'Attack like lightning, vanish like smoke' was their motto, I believe." 

"And Sophia Willow here did a favor to them, and in return they gave her a horse and a boon. She has yet to use the boon," finished Remus. 

"And the horse?" inquired Sirius, who had had a few words with Dumbledore and was now free of Snape. 

"Oh, he's still around," said Sophie carelessly. "Fireheart, they named him. Feisty little bastard, he was. Ball of lightning, too-- fastest thing I ever rode. Didn't like reins, though." 

"Sophia," said Dumbledore pointedly, indicating the mirror. "I believe your friend over there is waiting for you." 

"What? Oh, yeah." Sophie went over and crouched before the mirror, before looking up. "Dumbledore? You don't happen to have a speaking stone, do you? I hate working with mirrors." 

"As a matter of fact, yes," Dumbledore said swiftly, and from his desk draw he took a spherical black rock, and laid it upon a cushion of velvet. The stone looked like onyx. "Excellent." Sophie got up and placed a hand on the stone. It slowly rose into the air, and, seconds later, a face appeared. 

The face was unlike anything that Harry had ever seen, neither young nor old, but it had brown and silver hair, and deep brown eyes. The lips curled into a smile as the face saw what it was that it was speaking to. "That's Megana, commander of the Riders," whispered Sophie audibly. 

"Sophie!" exclaimed Megana, grinning widely. "Long time, no see." 

"Very long, Meg," commented Sophie dryly. "And only need brings me back to your tender, but doubtful, mercies." 

"Still the sharp tounge, eh? I'm suprised you still have it. Thought someone woulda surely cut it out by now." 

"How's Fireheart?" queried Sophia, choosing wisely to ignore the jibe. 

"Ah, he's fine. Been pining a bit-- no one rides him as recklessly as you do --and needs some excerise, but other than that, he's fine. We know it 'cause he nearly broke the stable down yestermorn." 

"Éoren still there?" 

"Where else," retorted Megana. "She's still ruler. She's also proclaimed that no offical feast can go off without a foodfight." 

"Like there was any chance of that." 

"Well, it's Éoren, you know. Oh, and Saund and Bas have taken over rule of the Failte." 

"Great. Failte still going strong? Where's Níve?" 

"Hell yeah the Failte are goin' strong. Níve took off for the lower lands, though." 

"Good," said Sophie vaguely. "Meg, I need a favor." 

"Fire away." 

"I need to borrow your entire company of Riders." 

_ "WHAT?!?!?!" _

"Hey, it's an emergency! Voldielocks is coming-- here, Hogwarts, and he's got a squad. We need all the help we can get." 

"No," said Megana flatly. "I can't risk it." 

"I thought you said that boon extended for--" 

"No. If I let you talk anymore, you'll probably talk me into it." The speaking stone slammed down on the table again with a loud clunk. "Great," sighed Sirius, staring at it. Sophie was completely unconcerned. "Ah, they'll show up. Eventually. Might be too late, but the point is, they'll show up. Prob'ly drag along a horde of Failte as well." 

Sirius looked horrified. 

A/N: I'm SOORRRRYYY this part has taken sooo long, but I've got a writer's block the size of Mount Everest. I used to write good stuff, I swear I did! ::whimpers:: Anyhoozle, review, pleez. You know the drill. 


End file.
